


Skeleton Puppies

by AceFace98



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Baby Blasters, Character Death, Child Abandonment, Child Abuse, Dadby, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Physical Abuse, spacegate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-15 13:20:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 43,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5786644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceFace98/pseuds/AceFace98
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snowdin is a small and quiet town, the last bit of civilization before the Ruins. Any and all rumors pass through Grillby’s, so he’s heard everything. So when the rumor of puppies running in the forest starts to spread, Grillby finds himself front row for all the sudden strangeness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> OK! So!!! Yeah...  
> Anyways, I realize that I should be working on Together Forever, and that I'm behind on it, but the past two weeks have been filled with nothing but writer's block. Like...insane amounts of writer's block (whyyyy Alphys I thought we were friendsssss....). To combat that, I started writing this. I like REALLY love Baby Blasters, it's the cutest freakin AU. Once I finished it I decided to post it to my tumblr, and it got a really good response so imma post it here!   
> Currently this is just a one shot, but I have ideas running around that could make it longer. I'm still working on Together Forever, and I WILL finish that before I do any huge project.  
> Again, don't hesitate to let me know if I forgot to tag something or mistagged something <33 And if you can, check out the official baby blaster's blog: http://babyblasters.tumblr.com

Snowdin wasn’t a very large community. It was out in the middle of the freezing cold, for one, and for two it was the farthest you could possibly get from New Home without getting into the Ruins. The monsters that lived in Snowdin were all fitted closely together because of it, their own culture springing up in the middle of the ice and snow. Sure, they got the odd tourist every now and then, but ultimately the town just existed on its own.

Perhaps the cold helped. There was very little excitement in town, enough so that the town had never required a mayor or police force beyond what the handful of sentires provided. No one did much of anything quickly or rashly in the cold and snow, so it was only natural that the townspeople spend more of their time staying cozy and comfortable than causing excitement. 

Quiet, was the term. Just a quiet little town.

Off the main road of town was a small bar called Grillby’s, run by a fire elemental by the same name. He had come to Snowdin from the capital, wanting a change of pace. Due to some shenanigans involving the large family of bunnies that ran the shop and inn, he ended up with his own restaurant. He loved every minute working there, though, and even ten years later he was still pleased with his decision to stay in Snowdin. He wasn’t hurting for money, he got to do what he loved, and he was surrounded by a ton of smiling and friendly faces every day. Sure, moving had been a pain at first, but now that he had lived here for a while he couldn’t imagine himself living anywhere else. 

Besides, the bar was perhaps the liveliest place in the entire town. Coming from the capital, the quiet of Snowdin occasionally ate at Grillby, who was constantly expecting  _ something _ to happen. Some new Mettaton stunt, or some new building opening up, or just for some insane piece of gossip to snake through the grapevine. In Snowdin, the same gossip could be discussed for weeks at a time. Running the bar meant Grillby got to be the front row seat for said repetitive gossip. But it was something, for certain.

He was halfway through a Monday morning (a pretty calm day, considering the sentires generally spent all of the day at their stations) when he heard something new. Something weird.

The first person to tell him about it was a bunny by the name of Jess. Jess had been drinking again, and the first thing time they had mumbled anything about it was just to mention that the new puppies in town didn’t look anything like the other dogs. Grillby had furrowed his brow, and had asked about said puppies, but Jess was easily distracted, especially when drunk, and was trying to get the one waitress Grillby employed to dance to the jukebox. The matter had been dropped as his poor waitress got spun all around the room, her feathers ruffled, before Jess finally agreed that they should probably go home. 

The next time the rumor had come up had been from Doggo. He mentioned casually that the teens from town had to be playing some kind of prank on him, because on occasion it seemed that they’d run by but freeze if he ever looked up. 

“Though to tell you the truth, Grillbz.” Doggo continued. “They looked a bit more...doglike than snowdrake or ice cap like, you get me?” 

Grillby frowned in thought. “Maybe it was Greater Dog without his armour?” 

Doggo nodded. “Could be, don’t know why the big guy would be running around  _ my _ station though.”

Plus one quick word with Greater Dog proved that he wasn’t the culprit. Greater Dog couldn’t lie to save his life, and Lesser Dog always got too excited to prank someone. Even Doggo would’ve been able to identify Lesser Dog; his neck kind of made him stand out. 

So the rumor grew. The next time it was brought up had been on Friday, one of the Dogs’ many poker nights. Even Lesser Dog put his usual self versus match on hold to join in.

“Hey, you guys haven’t had puppies without telling anyone about it, right?” Doggo asked suddenly, mid game, to Dogamy and Dogaressa. Both of them laughed.

“(I think I would’ve noticed)” Dogaressa commented. “(Why do you ask?)”

Doggo shook his head. “I thought it was the teens pranking me at first, but it  _ has _ to be puppies. They keep running around my station.”

“Why all the way out there?” Dogamy asked, looking concerned and curious. Grillby was surprised that he hadn’t thought of that himself; Doggo’s station was the last sign of civilization until the Ruins. Why would there be puppies that far out?  _ How _ would they have  _ gotten _ that far out?

Doggo just shrugged in response, and the game continued. For the following week, it seemed like the news of the possible puppies in the forest had spread like wildfire to all the citizens, but actual sightings had tapered off. Doggo shrugged it off, saying he hadn’t seen anything as the days passed. It seemed like that would be the end of it.

Except it wasn’t.

After the short quiet period, it suddenly seemed like  _ everyone _ had seen the puppies. A few teens had been playing survivor in the forest when their camp had suddenly been raided by them. One woman was walking to the store when she saw them through the trees. Lesser Dog barked excitedly about getting their scent one day. Even Dogamy and Dogaressa both claimed to have seen them, running through the clearings. 

Only, everyone seemed convinced that they weren’t normal dogs, but  _ skeleton _ dogs. Grillby wasn’t certain about the whole thing, but he didn’t dismiss it. Everyone’s rumors all seemed to line up, so it was very possible that there  _ were _ skeleton dogs running around somewhere. Dogamy and Dogaressa both talked about trying to catch up to them (no one was entirely certain how many there were, sometimes it was one but sometimes there were two) and seeing if they had a family. No one had heard of skeleton dogs in Snowdin, so wherever the puppies had come from they hadn’t originally lived  _ here _ . All the sentires agreed to try to see if they could find the puppies and/or their parents.

About a week had passed before Grillby himself saw them.

He had been walking home after a particularly long day at the bar, his coat wrapped loosely. Since he was made of fire, he was constantly warm, and he created his own light. It was through this light that he first saw the glint of something white, running between the trees. 

He froze at first, certain his mind had been playing tricks on him. He thought about the rumor then, and his curiousity got the better of him. He started into the trees, keeping his flame from any low hanging branches. 

It didn’t take long to find the tracks. With the constant snowfall plaguing Snowdin, Grillby knew that the tracks would probably be gone in just a few days. He ached to sketch them out or photograph them, but he didn’t have anything on him at the moment. He wondered if he would be safe to get closer to the skeleton dogs, and decided he was too curious to  _ not _ .

He wondered what could’ve happened to the puppies to make them act like this. Clearly they had cut through Snowdin and continued on, and then they had come back. Had they thought there would be more passed the town? Did they know about the Ruins? Why didn’t they stop to talk to anyone? What were they doing in the forest? 

Grillby followed the tracks deeper into the woods, but it wasn’t long before he could hear the roar of the river. This close to Waterfall, the woods weren’t very dense or confusing. Grillby was confident that he could easily find the dogs here.

Except the puppies seemed to be cleverer than he gave them credit for. The tracks looped him back to the road, where they almost instantly vanished in the well trodden snow. Grillby frowned, figuring they puppies must’ve darted across the road to the other side. He looked through the trees on the other side, but he couldn’t find any other tracks. Well, there was a set of tracks that looked like they might have belonged to a snowdrake, or maybe Jerry, but those were normal. The teens of the town loved to hang in the woods, after all. 

Grillby’s frown deepened the longer he stared at the tracks. Maybe they didn’t belong to a snowdrake? In fact, looking closer they almost seemed like they were too long for one, and there was a slight curve in the foot shape in the middle. Maybe one of the bunny children in town had gone exploring as well? He decided that had to be it.

Feeling defeated, he decided to head home. It was a while before he could fall asleep, his thoughts turning wildly.

The next morning, there were several more reports of the puppies. None of it was stuff Grillby hadn’t heard before, but that changed as the day wore on. Jess had come in, sitting down in their usual booth. Grillby’s waitress was on break, so he went over to take their order.

“You know Grillby, it’s a good thing you don’t have siblings.” Jess said after placing their order. “My sister was telling me random things the other day, something about the puppies.”

Grillby didn’t have to ask what they meant. The rumor was really everywhere. “Oh?” He said, politely. 

“Yeah, she swears up and down that it’s only  _ one _ of them that’s a puppy.” Jess continued. “She says she saw them both, and that one of them was a skeleton  _ child _ . Like, a little baby! Imagine that, a dog taking care of a kid?”

Grillby frowned at the thought, suddenly remembering the tracks from the night before.  _ Had _ those been regular skeleton tracks, and he just hadn’t realized it? But he hadn’t even been certain he had seen  _ two _ puppies, just the one. 

“A lot about them is mysterious.” Grillby said finally. “I hope they introduce themselves soon, this is getting a bit too weird for me.” 

Jess laughed. “Said the man who comes from the capital! But...yeah, no I hope so too. Skeleton or not, those puppies shouldn’t be stuck out in the cold like that.” 

That was the statement of the year. Grillby found himself thinking about it as the day wore on. When day began to fade into night, the sky darkening as the crystals on the ceiling slowly dimmed to recharge, Grillby was interrupted by his thoughts by his second sighting of the puppies. 

Well, not specifically of  _ them _ , just the damage they had left behind. Seemed like the puppies had discovered that Grillby’s garbage bin held food.

Grillby paused on the back steps, staring at the mess that used to be his bins with a bag of trash in his hand. He eventually shook himself out of it, setting down the new bag before cleaning up the remains of his once clean trash area.

He should’ve know they would be hungry! They were puppies, not hunters. How much food had they even been getting? He was suddenly worried for them, wondering if he could leave a plate of food out that they’d find. 

He didn’t think that’d work too well. If it was obvious that he knew they were there, they’d probably disappear again. He wondered what he could do instead, how he could offer food in a way the puppies wouldn’t refuse. 

In the end, he settled on “throwing out” a couple of boxes of unopened snack foods, crackers and pretzels. It wasn’t much, but maybe it would be enough to convince the puppies to hang around his bar more often. He could work on forming some kind of bond then, some way of showing them that no one meant them harm. 

He thought about what Jess had said earlier, about it being too cold for them to be out in the snow. In the break room was an old couch with an even older afghan draped across it. Grillby took it, letting his fire burn the one of the corners off, then “threw” it out as well. He couldn’t think of anything else, so he finally had to call it quits for the day. 

The next day, he was pleased to see that both the blanket and the food were gone. The trash area didn’t look nearly as torn up this time as well. 

Grillby ended up “throwing out” a couple more boxes of snacks, but he didn’t really have any food in his bar that didn’t require cooking. He decided to see how things went, to see if he could find a pattern to the raids on his garbage. If the puppies got comfortable enough around the bar, then he could be a bit more obvious about helping them. Maybe then they’d reveal themselves. 

As the week wore on, though, the trash area was exactly the same. Grillby paid close attention to it and the surrounding forest, anxiously wondering about the puppies. 

After a few days, the raids began again, much to his relief. It seemed like the dogs were trying to space them out, perhaps so it’d be less likely for them to be caught. Stuff like that worried Grillby; clever people could become frightful when terrified. What could’ve caused these skeleton dogs to resort to this type of tactic? 

After a couple of weeks of the same old rumors and the steady raids of the trash areas, Grillby put his plan into action. This time, he prepared an entire take out carrier, with a burger and as many fries as he could cram into the remaining space. 

When he went back into work the following day, he was thrilled to see the food was gone. He wondered if he should involve the Guard at this stage, to see if the puppies would reveal themselves to other dogs. He decided against it, considering how much the sentries had already been trying to catch up to the skeleton dogs. He simply left food and blankets out again, hoping he might have a chance to meet with the puppies. 

Everything went wrong. The following day there was a terrible blizzard. It was bad enough that the river half froze, and people in Waterfall complained about the cold. No one could leave their homes for nearly three days as the snow ruthlessly blocked them in. When the snow finally relented, it took nearly another day of clearing before the townspeople could get back to a normal life. Grillby had it a bit easier, able to use his natural fire to clear off his area and part of the road, but he alone couldn’t melt all the snow. 

The blizzard had him worried for the skeletons. He hoped they had some kind of shelter. 

After some time, and with the help of Doggo, he was able to clear the snow off the door to his bar. He offered to let him in for hot chocolate in return, but stepping into the bar revealed that hot chocolate was probably going to be the last thing to happen that day. 

Laying in the middle of the bar was a skeleton puppy, a bit bigger in person that they had been from a distance. They were lying on their side, their breathing shockingly shallow. On occasion, a deep cough rocked through them. Curled up against them was a little skeleton child, sleeping with their back to the dog’s belly. The two were both wearing raggedy clothing, and the afghan Grillby had given them was stretched over the dog. The other couch blanket had gone to the dog as well, the child instead curled tightly on themself to keep themself warm. 

The shift in lighting seemed to wake the child, who sat up shockingly quickly. Upon seeing the three of them there, they scrambled to their feet and protectively stood in front of the puppy.

Then things got weirder. The child seemed to... _ shrink _ in on themself. They pitched forward, their hands changing and their spine popping. Within seconds, they had seamlessly transformed into another skeleton puppy, one slightly smaller than the one they were guarding. They began to growl, defensive.

“You’re see this, right Grillbz?” Doggo whispered to him. “I mean, I’m getting about every couple of seconds here but...did they just?”

“Shapeshift? Yes indeed.” Grillby mumbled, shock rooting him to the door.

The other puppy was still asleep, but looking from the two Grillby could tell that there was something seriously wrong. Something wrong enough that the two had felt desperate enough to break into the bar. Had the blizzard made them ill?

“Doggo, I need you to run into town and get the doctor.” Grillby whispered. “I’ll handle this.”

Doggo looked at him, bewildered. He then looked back at the puppies, the smaller one still standing their ground and occasionally growling. “Sure thing Grillby. I hope you know what you’re doing.” He took off, rushing back into town.

Soon, it was just Grillby and the skeleton dogs.

“Easy there,” Grillby said, stepping into the bar. The puppy’s tail stuck straight out behind them; clearly they were  _ going _ to defend the other one, no matter what. Grillby wondered, not for the first time, what the two's relationship was. “I just want to help.”

The puppy growled, and Grillby stopped. He slowly sank to his knees, keeping both hands in front of him.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He promised. “I’m not going to hurt  _ either _ of you. I just want to help.”

The puppy’s tail lowered as they looked at the fire monster. They cocked their head slightly, looking curious now. Suddenly, with no warning, they changed back into their child form. 

“Y-you...” They began, their voice betraying how dehydrated they were. “You want to help?”

“Yes, yes I do.” Grillby said. He didn’t dare move, he just stayed on his knees with his hands outstretched. “My name is Grillby, I own this bar. You two must be starving.”

The child turned their head back to the puppy. “I...” They looked back at Grillby. “I...my name is Papyrus.” They said finally.

“Papyrus? That’s a nice name.” Grillby said. “Who is...?”

“His name is Sans, he’s my brother.” Papyrus said, needing no prompting. “I...there was a storm and...he...I didn’t know what to  _ do _ and...” He looked on a verge of tears. “Please, can you heal him?”

Grillby’s fears were being realized. He crept closer, moving slowly to pacify Papyrus’s nervous looks. He himself wasn’t a good healer, and one look at Sans proved that there was too much wrong for him to be much help.

“I can’t heal him.” He told Papyrus. Papyrus opened his mouth to protest, but Grillby continued. “I asked my friend to leave to get a doctor. The doctor in town is very good, and she’ll be able to heal Sans here.”

Papyrus paled noticeably. “A doctor?! Is she from Hotland?!”

Grillby’s brow furrowed in confusion. “No, she lives in town. I promise you, Papyrus, she won’t hurt Sans.”

Papyrus began twisting his shirt, anxiously looking from Grillby to his brother and then back again. “I...she’s not going to...she...she’ll  _ help _ , yes? You  _ promise _ ?”

“I promise, Papyrus. In the meantime, we’ll have to help with what we can.” Grillby stood, then reached down and carefully lifted the puppy in his arms. He carefully carried Sans into the backroom, Papyrus close on his heels. He laid Sans out on the couch, taking care to keep the blankets tucked around him. Sans coughed in his sleep, his face furrowing in annoyance at being moved. He looked a bit more relieved to be on the couch and off the floor though.

“He’ll be more comfortable here.” Grillby explained. “Now come on, you sound like you need something to eat and drink.”

Papyrus shook his head. “I can’t leave my brother!” He complained. 

“You can’t help him if you don’t help yourself first.” Grillby told him. “You looked like you’re about to collapse yourself. Besides, it’s best we leave Sans alone so he can rest.” 

Papyrus looked between the two, his hand over his stomach. He finally nodded, and allowed himself to be lead back into the kitchen.   
Grillby’s kitchen was much like any restaurant’s, with an island counter diving the room and with several silver machines lining the walls. A stool had been left in the kitchen by Grillby’s waitress --she liked to eat in the warmth of the kitchen on her lunch break-- and that was where Grillby directed Papyrus to sit. 

Grillby first gave him a glass of water, telling Papyrus to drink it slowly. He watch Grillby curiously while the fire monster cooked, Grillby having settled on making mac and cheese since it was quick and easy. Papyrus managed three glasses of water before it was ready.

He looked absolutely baffled at the plate Grillby laid out for him. He looked up at Grillby, then down at the plate, and then over to the stove, as if the whole cooking process was completely foreign to him. He finally dipped his fork in and slowly eat a bite.

His eyes positively lit up, and soon he was trying to shovel as much of the food into him as he could. Grillby had to remind him to go slow so as to not upset his stomach. 

Grillby couldn’t help but stare as Papyrus ate. The poor boy looked worse for wear, his frame all  _ too _ slight, even for him to be made entirely of bone. There was something  _ slim _ about his energy, some underlying  _ feeling _ of malnutrition that was all too obvious to Grillby. And god, the poor kid couldn’t have been much more than five, his brother only a few years older. What could’ve happened to these two to make them look that way?

Grillby looked up when the bell chimed. “That would be the doctor and Doggo. Do you want to wait here, or come with me?”

Papyrus seemed shocked at having a choice. “I...I’m just...I’m gonna go stay with Sans.” He decided, sliding out of the stool. He walked back into the break room, back over to where his brother was lying. 

God, what was happening here? Shapeshifting skeleton puppies who looked, for a lack of a better term, abandoned? Granted, Grillby had no proof that Sans could shift as well, but he had a feeling it wasn’t just something Papyrus could do. 

Grillby decided to shelve his thoughts for a moment, knowing that Sans getting better took priority, and walked back out into the bar proper. 

As he had thought, Doggo had returned with the familiar bunny woman. She was taking off her coat when Grillby walked in, her blue fur fuzzy from being pinned in for so long.

“Grillby!” She said, looking up. “What’s this about? Doggo came and told me that the skeleton puppies are  _ here _ ?”

Grillby and Doggo nodded together. “It seems they broke in during the blizzard, one of them is very ill.”

She gasped slightly. She reached for her bag and asked Grillby to show them to her.

“Did Doggo tell you about the...?” Grillby began.

“Shapeshifting?” She asked, nodding. “I’ve heard of cases of shapeshifting monsters back when I was in school, but I’ve never personally worked with one. I know the basics, though, and I feel prepared.”

Grillby felt satisfied, so he brought the two into the kitchen and then the break room.

Papyrus looked up when they came in. He had sat on the floor, with his back against the couch. He stood quickly when the three came in, clearly still trying to defend his brother.

“Papyrus,” Grillby said, trying to be soothing. “This is Doggo, you saw him earlier. And this is Dr. Madeline, she’s here to help.” 

Papyrus was visibly shaking, keeping his eyes glued to the doctor. After a moment, he finally turned and looked back at Grillby. “You promise?” He asked again. Grillby nodded, and only then did he seem pacified. He stepped aside, watching Madeline intensely.

Madeline smiled brightly at him, placing her bag in between her and Papyrus. In this way, Papyrus could see everything inside of it. She knelt down and began pulling the blankets off of Sans, who stirred but didn’t wake. She began to pull instruments out of her bag, with Papyrus watching with anxious curiosity. As she looked around for the things she would need, she smiled again at Papyrus and asked if he wanted to look at her tools. There was a pause, but he nodded and she began showing him all the tools she had in her bag and what they did. 

This seemed to help some, Papyrus looking a bit less nervous around the doctor. They passed time this way, with Madeline pausing to show him her instruments while she examined his brother. 

“Why...why don’t you wear the coat?” He asked finally.

“What coat?” She asked, looking curious.

“The white one. You’re a doctor, right?”

Madeline laughed softly. “Yah, but I never really like the lab coat look. I’m a on-call doctor, not one who works in an office.”

Papyrus looked confused. “So you don’t have a lab or anything?”

“Lab?” It was Madeline’s turn to look confused. Grillby felt confused as well. “No those are things scientists have. I’m not that kind of doctor.”

Now Papyrus looked  _ really _ confused. “There’s more than one kind?”

Madeline didn’t seem to know how to answer that. She looked up at Grillby, but he was just as confused. What kind of situation was Papyrus coming from to know what a scientist was but not a medical doctor? 

“Um...yeah Papyrus.” Grillby finally answered. “Madeline is a healer. Her job is to help people get better.” 

Papyrus seemed to be in awe of that, gaping slightly at Madeline. He watched as she went back to treating Sans, running her hands over the bones to help heal the sickness out of him. For a while, there was nothing anyone could say. After the pause grew to uncomfortable lengths, though, Madeline began talking to Papyrus again. She asked him to get her tools as she needed them, describing them patiently to the child. He was surprisingly efficient, helping her without getting bored like any other child might have. He kept shooting worried looks at his brother, who hadn’t stirred since the examination began. 

Madeline showed Papyrus what she was doing as she did it, probably to help put him at ease. He found the whole thing fascinating, watching in awe. He seemed much calmer around them by the time she was done, saying that Sans needed sleep. Still, when Madeline packed up and asked Papyrus if he needed anything, he look suddenly ill at ease. He just sat back down, saying he was going to wait for his brother to wake up.

The three adults left the children alone, walking back into the bar.

“So, how is he?” Grillby asked. 

Madeline sighed. “Being a skeleton is probably the only thing that saved him, to be perfectly honest. He’s incredibly resilient, and it seems more so that he’s just exhausted. When he wakes up he’ll need food and safety, and to, you know, not going running off into the woods.”

Grillby nodded, figuring as much. “And Papyrus?” 

“I kind of wish he’d let me examine him, but I don’t want to push it.” Madeline admitted. “He looks tired as well, but marginally better than his brother. It’s possible he’ll get sick as time goes on.”

“What are we going to do with them?” Doggo asked. “The guard’s been keeping an ear out, but there’s been no reports of missing skeleton puppies.”

Grillby frowned. “Well perhaps there’s report is for skeleton children? Can the guard look into it?”

Doggo nodded. “What about in the meantime? They can’t live in the bar.”

“I can take them in.” Madeline said almost instantly, but then she frowned. “Well...I mean I’m never home and...hmm...I don’t think that’d be good for them, now that I think about it.”

“I’ll take them in.” Grillby piped in. “They can come with me to the bar during the day, and it’s not like I don’t have the room.” 

Doggo looked shocked. “Kids, Grillby? I didn’t think you had that in you.”

Grillby sighed good naturedly. “I used to take care of my niece, back when I lived in the Capital. I have some experience, and the two can’t very well live on the couch.” 

Madeline smiled brightly. “Oh thank goodness. I’ll bring by some vitamins for you later, something to get their stamina back up. The most important thing you can give them now is safety, food, and warmth.”

Grillby nodded, feeling a bit relieved. He wasn’t lying, he  _ did _ use to take care of his niece from time to time, but that had been years ago. He didn’t really know the first thing about children, and he was more than a bit nervous at the idea. He wanted to help, though, in whatever way he could. 

The three continued to talk a bit about the children, but then Madeline realized the time and had to leave. She had other patients to attend to, especially after that storm.

“If you need, I can come help you set up a room for the two at your house.” She offered as she shouldered her coat. “With all my siblings, I know a thing or two about kids.” 

Grillby had forgotten that her and Jess were siblings, part of the same gaggle of kids that made up a good portion of Snowdin’s population. There were several of them in total, but then there were also the cousins as well. Grillby had never been able to keep their family tree straight in his head.

“That’d be incredibly helpful, thank you.” Grillby said.

“I can get some help from Dogamy and Dogaressa too.” Doggo put in. “All of us guard members would love to help out in whatever way we can.”

Grillby thanked them both again, feeling much more relieved. He could do this, he could take care of a couple of kids. They’d find out what was going on, and then they could get the kids the help they needed. The two then left, both going off to their jobs and both promising to stop by later to give Grillby updates.

He decided he wasn’t going to open the bar that day. Luckily, the aftermath of the storm meant he probably wouldn’t have gotten many customers anyways. He locked up, keeping the sign on  _ closed _ , then went back to the kitchen.

He made some more mac and cheese, then started on a vegetable soup for Sans. Something light and easy to swallow. He was about halfway done with the food when he heard a loud  _ crash! _ from the break room. 

“Sans! No...! SANS! It’s OK!” He heard Papyrus yell as he took off. He froze in the doorway, surprise keeping him rooted. 

Sans was awake now, the blankets he had been wrapped in half destroyed on the floor. He was standing uneasily on the couch, Papyrus standing in front of him. He looked disoriented, a soft blue glow emitting from his left eyes. Grillby caught site of the remains of the vase from the side table, now broken. Seemed like Sans had woken up and had immediately lashed out, breaking it with the blankets. He worriedly looked back at Papyrus, who was standing uncomfortably close to the broken class with nothing on his feet to protect them. 

Sans caught sight of Grillby then, growling loudly. A soft blue light began to build in his mouth, but before Grillby could do anything Papyrus had stepped in. 

“No!  _ Sans! _ ” He cried, wrapping his arms around his brother’s muzzle. “Stop it! He’s friendly!”

Sans whinned at his brother, glancing at him and then back at Grillby. Papyrus released his hold slowly, whispering something calming. After a moment, Sans nodded and then shifted.

Grillby had been expecting Sans to have a child form as well, but it was still a shock to see him shift. He was roughly the same height as his brother, but more sturdily built, indicating that he wasn’t going to get much taller. He was also wearing the same type of raggedy clothing as Papyrus, a torn sweater and a pair of shorts. 

“What’s going on?” Sans demanded as soon as he was capable of it. 

Grillby was only slightly surprised by Sans’s aggression. “You were sick, so I asked a doctor to come and look at you.”

At the word  _ doctor _ , Sans’s eyes widen. He suddenly looked very angry, but Papyrus put himself in front of Sans again.

“It’s OK Sans!” He said. “She was very nice and wasn’t even wearing a white coat! She had really soft fur and some weird tools but nothing that was pointy or anything! It’s OK!” 

Sans looked at his brother, and his expression seemed to soften. “Yeah?” He asked. Papyrus nodded eagerly, and Sans’s anger seemed to melt a bit. “Yeah...Ok then Paps.”

Sans slowly sat down on the couch, still shooting Grillby concerned looks. Grillby remembered the food then and had to excuse himself, leaving the two brothers to catch up. 

He wondered how he was going to bring up the topic of them living with him until they found their parents. He wondered again if the two even had parents, and what had lead them to Snowdin in the first place. He wondered why the topic of doctors got both brothers so worked up, fearful and angry. 

The food was finished when he reentered the kitchen. He gathered the bowl and plate and went back into the break room, the quiet mutterings between the brothers ceasing instantly when they saw him.

Papyrus’s eyes lit up when he saw the mac and cheese. He attacked the plate full the second Grillby offered it to him, but Sans took some convincing.

“What’s this?” He asked, holding the bowl curiously. 

“It’s vegetable soup.” Grillby explained. “I thought you should have something lighter to eat, since you’re still sick.”

“Soup?” Sans asked, looking confused. He glanced at Papyrus, who only shrugged in response.

“Yes...soup...” Grillby said, uncertain on how to explain. How did they not know what soup was?

Sans dipped the spoon in experimentally, sniffing the broth for a moment before sipping some of it. His eyes widen and he nodded. “Wow, it’s really good.” He said, smiling at Grillby. He, like his brother, also seemed determined to eat everything really quickly. Grillby had to stop him and remind him to take it easy. 

The three of them sat on the floor of the break room, couch momentarily ignored. When the two were finished, and it didn’t take long, Grillby asked them if they wanted seconds and was rewarded with another blank look.

“Seconds?” Sans asked finally, looking from his brother back to Grillby.

“Yes...you know, another bowl of soup?” Grillby offered.

Sans’s eyes widen. “I...oh,  _ can _ I have more?” He seemed shocked at the thought.

_ What’s going on here? _ Grillby wondered. He had a sinking feeling it was nothing good, but he had no idea how to bring up the topic gently. “Yes, of course you can Sans.”

“Me too?” Papyrus asked softly, as if he too couldn’t believe that seconds was a possibility.

“Yes, of course.” Grillby said, standing. He took their dishes and went back into the kitchen and served up some more. He had made quite a lot, just to be on the safe side, so it only took as long as filling up the dishes again. When he gave the kids their plates back, they both stared at him in complete awe.

Papyrus’s awe soon shifted into happiness, and he eagerly started scarfing down the mac and cheese. Sans looked less convinced, staring at Grillby with a startling good skeptic look. He finally took a few bites, eating slowly. 

When Papyrus was done, Sans set down his half finished bowl and looked dead at Grillby. “I don’t get it,” He said, staring at the fire monster. “What’s the catch here?” 

Grillby’s brow furrowed. “Catch? Sans, I just want to help.”

“No one does  _ this _ much just to help out.” Sans argued.

“I...” Grillby felt positively heart broken. “Sans I promise, that was my only intention. Quite a lot of people are worried about you two now, since neither of you ever came into town.”

Sans frowned. “Why would they be worried?” He seemed genuinely confused.

“Because it’s pretty worrisome to know there’s a couple of puppies running around in the snow and cold!” Grillby said, unable to help him raising voice. He regretted it instantly when Sans cringed.

“No...I didn’t mean to yell...” He said, trying to take it back. “I’m just trying to prove something here. You two made a lot of people scared for you, why didn’t you come into town?”

Sans shifted his feet uncomfortably. “We...um...” He sighed, nudging the bowl with his toe. He looked up at Papyrus, and Grillby could’ve sworn that the two were somehow sharing a conversation just in that one look. 

Sans cleared his throat and looked back at Grillby. “We...I um...I really don’t want to talk about it.” He looked apprehensive, but his half response was more than enough for Grillby’s worst fears to be brought to the center of his thoughts. 

They were running from something. Perhaps asking if anyone was looking for skeleton children was a bad idea.

Grillby forced himself to nod. “That’s OK.” He said, his answer giving Sans both a relieved and a confused expression. “You don’t need to talk about it.”

Grillby sighed, trying to find the best way to phrase his words. “I’m sorry if I make you nervous, or make you believe in any way that you owe me something. I promise, I’m only trying to help you and your brother.” He took a breath. “I have a friend who works for the Royal Guard. They Guard is nothing but good people, and I promise you they’ll help.”

Sans looked shocked by that. “They...they want to help us? But they...they don’t  _ know _ us.” 

Grillby shook his head. “That doesn’t matter. The Royal Guard protects people, it's what they do. And I want to help you two as well. Whatever happened, you two are  _ safe _ now. I promise.”

Sans looked at Grillby in shock, staring at him with his eyes wide and his mouth slightly agape. After a second or two, his expression shifted. His eyes began to water, and if he had lips they would’ve been trembling. 

Grillby didn’t see the hug coming. Sans practically pounced on him, nearly knocking him to the floor. He could hear Sans’s muffled cries as the child hugged him tightly. Grillby hugged him back without any hesitation.

He meant every word. He knew it right then and there, he’d do anything to help these kids. He wondered if this was what it was like to be a parent. 

He didn’t hear Papyrus get up, he only noticed him when he was suddenly joining in on the hug. Grillby shifted one of his arms so he could hug the two of them. 

There were a lot of unanswered questions here, but he would sort through them. Whatever it was Sans and Papyrus were running from, he’d protect them. The Royal Guard would help, and Madeline would make sure the two got well again. They were safe and they were going to stay that way, because Grillby would make sure of it. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmares are common, the past affects you even when you don't realize it. Time will help, but it's not the only thing that can. Don't be afraid, trust doesn't have to be difficult.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooooooohhh my god. First things first, holy shit guys that you sooooo much for all the kudos and likes and bookmarks and thiiinngs like holy shit. Like I've never gotten so much hype for anything I've ever written ever so <33333  
> On that note, this kind of ran away with me?? I have so many ideas for it, and it's now like demanding my attention. I kind of want to keep this a side project, but I know better than to let an idea just itch. So on that note, here's a chapter two and chapter three is already in the works.  
> Also I'm very tired and don't like editing. If you see mistakes don't hesitate to let me know! This might get re-posted later if I find enough to warrant it.

When the nightmare shocked Sans awake, he had no idea where he was or what was going on. He flailed wildly, forgetting, even, that he had fallen asleep in his blaster form. He heard something  _ rip _ , and he froze at the noise. 

Great, there went another blanket.

The sound brought him back to the present, though. He was in his room in Grillby’s house, the room that Grillby had  _ given _ him and Papyrus, all without a second thought. A couple of Royal Guards (if he remembered correctly, they were Lesser Dog and Doggo, but Dogamy and Dogaressa were there for a moment too) and Madeline had helped the three of them to fit the boys’ room with things they’d need. They all helped set up the two twin beds, the dresser, the desk, and they even all pitched in to get Sans and Papyrus proper clothes. Sans hadn’t been able to believe it at the time, and even now it was still extremely surprising. 

He decided that this room was a good thing. Nothing  _ but _ good things. The door was never completely shut, Papyrus got to play with whatever he wanted, and Sans finally had the opportunity to read everything he could get his hands on. Plus the beds were  _ much _ comfier than cots. He had never thought that the level of comfort of what you slept on was optional, the thought of having a bed that felt like clouds had never even entered his head. 

He looked across his shared bedroom, staring at the sleeping frame of Papyrus. Surprisingly, he was still asleep, even though Sans was pretty certain he had been mumbling in his sleep again. Papyrus was a light sleeper, always had been, and he always seemed to know when Sans was having a nightmare.

Sans flopped back on his bed, lying on his side so he could continue to stare at his brother. Papyrus was still in his normal form, he didn’t sleep in his blaster form like Sans did. But, to be fair, he never had. 

Papyrus had never been as...comfortable in his blaster form as Sans was. He was never really in tune with it, he prefered his skeleton form more. It had been the source of some anxiety for Sans, since they had been expected to have complete mastery of their blaster forms. Sans used his alternate form as an extension of himself, but Papyrus used it like he might use another magical attack. This had gotten him into trouble more than once, but Papyrus had never been able to get use to it like Sans could. He said that the four-legged thing disoriented him. 

Perhaps that was for the best. If Papyrus had been in his blaster form during the storm, he would’ve never been able to break into Grillby’s bar. None of this would’ve ever happened, and Sans would’ve probably died. 

Sans had hazy memories of the storm and the days in the bar. He remember sleeping a lot, and he remembered Papyrus trying to get him to eat and drink on a few occasions. He didn’t remember being discovered by Grillby, or the doctor examining him, or much of what happened when he finally woke up. Papyrus had told him that he had torn up Grillby’s couch blankets and broke a vase, but he couldn’t remember it.

His focus had come back when Papyrus had wrapped his hands around his jaw, stopping the blast before it could form. Seeing his brother protect the stranger from him had jarred him back to reality, and he had been able to focus around the pounding in his skull.

That had been a couple of days ago. Since then, the two had lived with Grillby. Sans regretted their introduction immensely.

Sans huffed to himself, the nightmare still too close to the edge of his thoughts. He stood up again, jumping off his bed and landing softly on the ground. He walked across the room and jumped up on Papyrus’s bed, trying not to disturb his brother. 

It didn’t quite work. Papyrus’s eyes opened slightly, and he looked down at Sans. When he saw his brother, he simply moved over slightly so Sans could curl up behind him. Papyrus pressed up against him, his back to Sans’s belly, just like they used to. 

“‘Nother nightmare?” He asked, his voice muffled from sleep. Sans made a soft noise in his throat, using his teeth to pull Papyrus’s blanket up to his chin. Papyrus wrapped a hand around it, snuggling in. “You can tell me about it, if you wanna.” He mumbled, sounding more awake now.

Sans made another noise, something similar to a whine. Papyrus was always able to understand him, even when Sans was a blaster and he wasn’t. 

“I know,” Papyrus responded. “But I’m not so little anymore. Besides, you could always talk to Grillby. I’m certain he’d understand.”

Sans huffed softly.

“I’m serious, Sans.” Papyrus said. “He’s great. You just need to give him a chance. He wants to help, I know it.” 

Sans wanted to point out that Papyrus also thought the scientist could change his mind and suddenly be good instead, but that was unnecessary and cruel. Papyrus always saw the best in everyone, even if that person didn’t deserve it. Sans had no idea how the kid could manage it. 

For a while, there was nothing but quiet. So quiet that Sans was certain that Papyrus had gone back to sleep. After a while, though, Papyrus turned slight and spoke up again.

“You feeling better?” Papyrus asked. “You don’t feel sick anymore?”

Sans nodded into Papyrus’s pillow. He wasn’t even lying; the medicine Grillby gave him was actually  _ helping _ . It was a nice change of pace, that was for certain. 

“See? They do just wanna help.” Papyrus pointed out. “Grillby and Madeline and Doggo. We really  _ are _ safe now.”

Sans couldn’t see it. He just couldn’t. Perhaps it was the nightmare talking, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling that everything here was just an illusion. A dream, something not real. Something that would shatter the minute he made the wrong move. And then where would they be? Back in the forest? Running for their lives again?

Back in the labs? He didn’t know if he could take that again. Not after everything else.

That thought seemed to shake him down to the core. It was too close to what his nightmares were trying to tell him, and he found himself breaking down. He wasn’t conscious of the shift until his child, and not doglike, arm draped over Papyrus. He hugged his brother close, aware that he was crying but not certain how to stop. Papyrus was still for a moment, but then he turned over so that he could hug back. 

“It’s OK.” Papyrus whispered to Sans. Sans could never quite get use to his little brother consoling him. Shouldn’t it be the other way around? But that was how it had been, ever since they’d gotten out of the labs. More often than not, Papyrus was the one taking care of  _ him _ , backwards as it was. “It was just a dream.”

“It still  _ happened _ , though.” Sans whispered, his voice hoarse. He wondered, for a heartbeat, how long he had stayed a blaster. He decided he didn’t care.

For a second, Papyrus didn’t say anything. Sans was grateful that he wasn’t trying to tell him that it was all in the past, or that things were different now. He was grateful that Papyrus had the nightmares too, that they were a  _ normal _ thing to have after everything. It was relieving to know, even if he felt like crap for feeling relieved. Papyrus was too young to have to deal with what he was dealing with, he shouldn’t have to suffer.

“I’m sorry.” Papyrus mumbled, his face buried in Sans’s PJ shirt.

“It’s not your fault.” Sans reminded him. “We can’t control the nightmares, or what happened.”

“I know.” Papyrus mumbled. “I’m sorry about...about the other thing. I was never any help and then...I mean it was just...I was  _ so scared _ and I didn’t know what to do and you...”

Sans knew what he was talking about now. “Shh.” He whispered. “That wasn’t your fault either. We all make choices.” 

Now it was Papyrus’s turn to cry. The two clung to one another, sobbing softly for a  _ long _ time before either could fall back asleep. Despite that, or maybe because of it, Sans didn’t have another nightmare.

  
~~~~

 

Grillby woke up around seven am, just before his alarm went off. He grumbled to himself about the cruelty of the world, but then sat up and rubbed the sleep from his face. He looked around his bed, and was surprised that there were no puppies there. 

It had been almost three days since he had taken in Sans and Papyrus, and he had learned that the two had frequent nightmares. Seemed like the world couldn’t let the two have any peace; as soon as they had found safety they had to be reminded of their past every night. He had offered to ask Madeline for sleep aids, but Sans had straight up told him that he didn't want anything that made him sleepy,  _ ever _ . It was one of those things that Grillby had learned not to question, he just went with it. He knew that time would help the nightmares to fade, but he wished there was a way he could shield the boys from them. 

Still, seemed like they had had a good night. Or, possibly, they had been too nervous to come into Grillby’s room. As much as he wished it was the former, he had a sinking feeling it had been the later. 

He reminded himself to check in with Doggo about the kids’ case, then fumbled around for his glasses. He got dressed for the day quickly, he actions a well worn daily routine. He stopped by the boys’ room on the way downstairs. He decided to peek in on them, a task that required a lot more subtly than he, a living ball of fire, probably had in him. He tried it anyways.

Sans wasn’t in his bed, but was in Papyrus’s instead. Both were even sleeping in their skeleton forms, which was a bit unusual. Normally Sans slept in his alternate form, sometimes even both of them did. Grillby wondered, for a moment, how the two choose what form to sleep in. He decided that that probably wasn’t important, though he would’ve thought that they were more comfortable in their alternate forms. Sans certainly seemed to treat both forms equally, he often shifted just in the middle of his day-to-day actions. Still, it seemed like they were sleeping soundly, which was the important part. 

Grillby was about to turn to leave when something shifted on the bed, rustling the blankets. He froze in place, watching as Papyrus slowly sat up. Papyrus blinked at him but then smiled, stretching and yawning. He carefully detangled himself and slid out of bed, meeting up with Grillby at the door.

“I didn’t wake you, did I?” He asked nervously, backing out into the hall so not to wake Sans as well.

“No, no!” Papyrus said. “I was awake already, I just saw you in the hall and decided to get up.” 

Grillby frowned. “You can go back to sleep, if you want to. We won’t have to leave for the bar for another hour or so.”

Papyrus shook his head. “I’m not tired. Can I help make breakfast?” He asked, looking eager.

Come to think of it, Papyrus had always seemed to be awake long before Grillby got up. He briefly worried that Papyrus might not have been getting enough sleep, but he had seen the child practically run laps around the break room. Papyrus had boundless energy, but it was worrisome to think that he might be living with only a few hours of sleep each night. 

“You certain?” Grillby asked.

Papyrus looked back, confused. “About making breakfast?”

“No, no I mean...” Grillby began, following Papyrus down the hall to the stairs. “You always go to bed at the same time as Sans, but you wake up so much sooner.”

Papyrus nodded again. “I don’t need much sleep.” He explained, turning back to look at Grillby as he walked down the hall. “Sans and...well Sans always sleeps more than I do.”

“It’s OK to sleep in, you know...”

“I’m serious, I’m not tired anymore. I have...what’s it called...” Papyrus stood there in thought for a moment. “It’s based off a human thing. I don’t remember the full name, but  D.E.C....4?...2?...I think it’s a 2... that’s in there somewhere.”

“A human thing?” Grillby asked, confused. 

Papyrus nodded. “They called me a ‘short-sleeper’ for short.” He beamed, clearly proud of his talent. 

Grillby was concerned and really,  _ really _ confused. “Who’s ‘they’?”

Papyrus suddenly found the floor  _ extremely  _ interesting. “Um...no one. I meant Sans ...just...well just Sans. And me...obviously...”

Grillby felt himself practically melt under the kid’s look. “Papyrus...you know you can tell me anything, right?”

Papyrus looked back up at Grillby, then looked back to the door they had just left behind. “It’s...” He stared, but then he took a breath and simply said “It’s complicated. The point is you don’t have to worry about my sleep schedule, I’m fine.” 

That wasn’t the point at all, but Grillby decided to drop the issue. It wasn’t the first time he had had to, every time the conversation got too close to the kids’ past they would skirt around it or change the topic completely. It seemed like they were still very uncomfortable with talking about it, but while Grillby didn't want to push them he also knew that any information they could give the Guard would only be helpful. Whatever had happened to the two of them, they deserved justice for it. 

Papyrus and him walked down the stairs, heading to the kitchen. Papyrus wanted to make pancakes, so Grillby agreed, the two settling back into an uneasy facade of normalcy. 

He wanted to help, but he didn’t want to push the kids. He wanted to know more about their past, but he didn’t want to bring up bad memories for them. He wanted to find the people responsible for everything that Papyrus and Sans had gone through, but he didn’t want to remind either of them about the event. He really just wanted to  _ help _ , but he didn’t have a clue on how to go about doing so. 

Papyrus was a very good helper, no matter the circumstances. Even though the kid had never cooked anything before he moved in with Grillby, he worked hard. Grillby was a patient teacher, and while he just had Papyrus doing simple things Papyrus was already claiming that he was going to grow up and become a master chef. Grillby chuckled with him, watching as he focused intently on mixing the batter. Grillby told Papyrus that if he ever did become a chef that Grillby would hire him for the bar. Papyrus’s eyes lit up and he bounced around excitedly.

It was hard to  _ not _ think about the conversation they had just had, though. Grillby was hyper aware of the fact that Papyrus was running on only a few hours of sleep, but was seemingly  _ fine _ . It was eerie, in a way. 

A “short-sleeper” he had called himself. He had a name for it, both a short and a long version for the “human thing” inside of him. Something that sounded like a chemical, that made it so he didn’t have to sleep much. Grillby hadn’t been certain how he was going to handle their whole situation in the beginning, but the more he learned about the boys the more confused he got. 

They had just finished making the pancakes when Sans entered. The house didn’t have a dining room, but the kitchen was more than big enough for the dining room table as well as the other appliances. Sans took a seat at one of the chairs, dropping his chin into his elbow. He looked like he was going to fall asleep again, right there at the table.

One brother that never slept, one that slept all the time. Truly, they were a mystery. 

Grillby managed to coax Sans awake enough to start on breakfast. For a while there, the uneasy group were silent as they ate. Papyrus loved the pancakes, but he managed to get syrup all over himself. Grillby figured he’d have to introduce the two to the bathroom tonight, making a mental reminder that it was possible the two might not know what a bath was. 

Grillby took a breath, looking between the two brothers. He didn’t know how to bring up his concerns, how to express his worry but...well, frankly this all was going on too long. There were too many things happening, and he hated feeling so concerned and confused. 

He tried to start of simply. “So...Papyrus was up early this morning.” He began, Sans looking up at him curiously. “He said he was a ‘short-sleeper’? I don’t quite get it.”

“Isn’t it that one thing?” Papyrus asked his brother. “D.E.C. and then some number, right?”

Grillby kept his focus on Sans, surprised that the child suddenly looked so uneasy. “Yeah, Pap.” He began slowly. “It’s called D.E.C.2, although it’s a mutated version of it, with magic involved...”

Papyrus looked pleased with himself. “I knew it was a 2!” He declared.

“What...what exactly  _ is _ ...D.E.C?” Grillby asked before he could lose his nerve. 

Sans played with his food. “I...” He took a breath. “I...don’t... _ know _ ...not really.” He admitted.

Even Papyrus looked a little off put by the question. “It’s...it’s just something I have.” He said, trying to cover what he probably thought of as his brother’s mistake. 

“How do you know you have it?” Grillby asked, not willing to let the moment pass.

“We just do.” Sans was practically growled into his food. He seemed to realize his anger and spent the next several minutes shoveling pancakes into his mouth, trying to cover it up. 

The conversation fizzled out. God, Grillby  _ really _ didn’t want to push them. He wanted them to be able to open up on their own pace, but with their situation that could become dangerous. He didn’t know about what they were running from, so he had very little way of protecting them. But they were too defensive, keeping secrets in an effort to protect themselves. 

“I’m sorry.” He told them, earning another set of confused looks. “I don’t want to make you two feel like I’m pushing you to tell me things I’m just...I’m worried and confused. I can’t help if I don’t understand.”

Sans inhaled sharply, looking at Grillby. He nodded then, looking back at Papyrus. The two seemed to share another look, the kind where they seemed to be having a conversation with each other, and then Sans turned back to Grillby. “It’s just...it’s a really long story.” Sans explained. 

Grillby nodded. “These thing usually are. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, just know that I’m here to listen.” 

Sans nodded. He put his fork down and turned slightly to look at Grillby. “We...we really do appreciate...well  _ everything _ .” He began, Papyrus nodding along. “We can’t thank you enough, especially after...well breaking into the bar for one...but...it’s just...”

The two children shared another look, and this time Papyrus took over. “We just,” Papyrus began. “We don’t really know how to talk about it? It’s complicated.”

Grillby nodded. “It doesn’t have to be all at once. Take your time.”

Sans and Papyrus both nodded. Sans stared his pancakes down for a minute, none of the odd little group feeling all too hungry anymore. Finally the kid sighed and looked back at Grillby. 

“At the bar today, is Doggo going to be there?” He asked.

Grillby blinked. “The sentries usually are there around lunch, so it’s very likely.”

Sans nodded. “And Doggo’s looking into reports on missing skeleton children, but he’s not telling anyone that you guys found us, right?” He started to rub his upper arm, some floodgate opening and the secrets pouring out. 

Grillby nodded again.  After much debating among the Guard, they had agreed that that would be the best plan. If anyone asked, they’d say that there had been some rumors about skeleton children a while ago. Until they knew the whole story, they didn’t want the boys to be dragged back into whatever situation they were running from.

Sans took a deep breath. “Well, he...you guys should probably know about it then...”

Grillby was practically holding his breath. He tried to appear patient, waiting calmly for Sans to work up his nerve. Sans continued to rub his arm, but then caught himself doing it. He sighed, then began to roll up the sleeve. The sleeve only went up to his elbow, so he huffed slightly to himself and decided to take off the whole sweater instead.

Under the sweater, Sans was wearing a T-Shirt, one of the many the Guards had helped to buy for the boys. He tugged on the sleeve of that, then turned his arm to show Grillby what was written there.

It was a bar code, like the kind you might find on an item in a store, stamped evenly on Sans’s left humerus. Under it was a serial code, the letters dyed black so they stood clear against the bone.

B.S.E. Nu 02 -- SANS

“We’re...we’re not  _ normal _ monsters.” Sans explained, Grillby only barely hearing him through his shock. “We...we were  _ made _ . Created in a lab by a scientist.” 

Grillby looked back up at Sans, mouth agape. He didn’t know how to think about this, he didn’t know how to feel. He found himself glancing between the two boys, his mind trying to process what he was being told. 

_ Made? _ Sans and Papyrus had been  _ made _ ? He felt a growing sense of horror as things began to click. 

The lack of knowledge about commonplace things, the distrust--no the  _ anger _ and  _ fear _ \--of doctors, the nightmares, the way Sans and Papyrus stayed unnaturally close to each other. Even with Papyrus’s enthusiasm, he never strayed far from eyesight of Sans. Grillby had assumed that had come from their time homeless, but  _ now _ ...well now he wasn’t certain about anything.

“I...wha...” He began, trying to mold his thoughts into something comprehensible. It felt an awful lot like he was trying to hold sand in a sieve, impossible and frustrating. 

He had to settle on a topic, find some place to begin at. The more of the story he knew, the more sense it’d make. “How...”

Luckily Sans seemed to understand, or perhaps Sans was eager just to get the whole thing off his chest. “We were made in a lab.” Sans said again, rubbing his barcode,--god an actual  _ barcode  _ on a  _ child _ \--an unconscious action that made Grillby worry that it might be hurting him. “We lived there, but it wasn’t a...it wasn’t a  _ good _ place. The scientist was trying to make us into...well he wanted us to be weapons. That’s why we can shift, we’re supposedly much stronger in our other form, but there were...other things as well.”

Sans looked back at Papyrus. “I didn’t...I didn’t  _ turn out _ quite right. I tire out quickly, and I can’t keep up much of a defense or an attack. So...he made Papyrus.”

“Yeah, but I’m no good either.” Papyrus added. “I can’t do half the things Sans can, no matter how much I try.”

Grillby’s heart practically shattered to hear Sans and Papyrus call themselves “no good.” He was about to interject and tell them that they were perfect as is, but Papyrus continued before he could say anything.

“So we got to be really close after a while.” Papyrus continued. “And we decided that we  _ had _ to be brothers, because we were both made by the same scientist, and we worked together.”

Sans smiled. “Yeah, bro, ‘course we’re brothers.”

“And after a while, we managed to escape!” Papyrus’s excitement was getting the better of him. “We knew we had to get as far away as possible, but we didn’t know that the Ruins existed so we ran right past Snowdin at first. We had to double back.”

Grillby knew that part, he had been present for it. Well, for the rumors of the event. He nodded anyways, looking at the brothers. 

“We’ve been trying to keep out of sight because we don’t know...well  _ anything _ about the scientist.” Sans continued, getting to his point. “We don’t know how far his reach is, or how far he’ll go to try to...well, to try to get us back...and...” He broke off, unable to continue.

Grillby hadn’t noticed he moved until he was suddenly next to Sans. He leaned over slowly, engulfing the boy in a hug. Sans didn’t even hesitate to hug back, which warmed Grillby’s heart.

“God...” He muttered. “I’m  _ so sorry _ .”

Sans made a noise that was similar to a laugh, but wasn’t quite. “It’s not  _ your _ fault.” 

“Yes, but I’m sorry it happened at all. I’m sorry you two had to live like that.” Grillby continued. “You shouldn’t have had to.”

Sans pulled away slightly, looking Grillby in the face. “I...we  _ do _ really appreciate everything....Everything you’re doing for us... _ have done  _ for us...just...”

Grillby nodded at Sans. “Sans, I want you to know something.” He looked at Papyrus. “You too. I want you  _ both _ to know this. I like both of you, just the way you are. This explains things, but it doesn’t  _ define _ you two. You two are more than welcome to stay here, for as long as you want.” 

Sans’s eyes threaten to tear up. Papyrus walked around the table to join in on the hug, and Grillby found that he really meant it. He’d care for these two for forever, if need be. 

There had been some part of him that had expected there to be a different outcome to this. A part that had thought that there was a loving home for Sans and Papyrus to return to, where a guardian would be to take them back in. Even when it became clear that they were victims of abuse, some part of Grillby hadn’t expected them to be with him for longer than a week or so. Just long enough for them to get help, that’s what he had been expecting. But now...?

Well, now, if what the boys were saying was true --and he believed them, wholeheartedly, even if didn’t want it to be true-- then the two didn’t even  _ have _ parents. There was no safe haven for them outside of Grillby’s care, no place for them to go.

That part of him that had been expecting them to leave was gone now. He couldn’t imagine a future without caring for Sans and Papyrus, he couldn’t imagine just going back to a the life he had before, even if it had only been a few days. 

He was reminded of his move into Snowdin, how he hadn’t expected to get the restaurant. How he hadn’t expected to move out here. How a decade later he couldn’t imagine anything else. This was much of the same thing, but so much bigger. His life was being changed again, but he found he was more than comfortable with it.

All that remained was to tear off the head off the scientist that thought it was OK to mess with his boys. Then he’d be golden.

“Are you going to be able to tell the Guard this?” He asked.

Sans stiffed slightly. “I...I think so?” 

“It’s OK if you don’t feel prepared.” Grillby said. “But they  _ can _ help. I know they can.”

Sans sniffled loudly, looking uneasy. He didn’t trust them, Grillby knew, he was still struggling with that. But from this confession alone it seemed very much like he was beginning to trust Grillby. Hopefully, it’d be enough. 

Just as he had that thought, his watch beeped. The simple alarm was enough to remind him that he needed to leave soon to open the bar. Papyrus and Sans also knew what it meant, so the hug broke apart. Papyrus rushed upstairs to grab some things for the two of them to take to the bar, things to keep themselves busy. Sans pulled his sweater back on, and Grillby stacked the dishes in the sink.

“I do mean it.” Grillby said, looking at Sans. “They  _ will _ help. And I’m always here, if you want to talk about anything.” 

Sans nodded, his breathing becoming sharper. “I...I appreciate it. I really do. I’ll...try to remember that.”

“Don’t strain yourself.” Grillby reminded him. “Let it come. Recovery is a slow process, and if you feel like you might want to talk to someone else, someone who’s not me or Papyrus, that’s an option too.” 

Sans looked confused. “I don’t understand.”

“Sometimes bad things happen.” Grillby said, careful of his phrasing. “There’s a type of people who help with that. It’s called therapy, and it does help. But that’s entirely up to you and Papyrus.”

Sans nodded. “I’ll...I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Grillby could tell that Sans was getting overwhelmed, so he dropped the matter. Papyrus returned after a second, a backpack on his shoulders. He had also pulled on a jacket, holding one out for Sans as well. 

The three left the house, walking in the early morning darkness to the bar. Sans kept close to Grillby, clearly uncomfortable with being seen in the open. Papyrus didn’t seem to mind, he ran ahead as always. These were both normal actions, but they now took on a different meaning. The way Sans watched for potential dangers, even now, and the way Papyrus easily trust that Sans and Grillby just being near meant he was safe. Papyrus was careful to stay within eyesight, even though he was clearly as over energized as always. Grillby had to actually consciously remind himself that the kid had only slept five hours at most; he was still getting used to the idea of it all. 

Sans was noticeably relieved when Grillby unlocked the bar to let them in. Papyrus helped Grillby start his day by taking chairs off the table and putting them at the tables. Sans even pitched in, helping Grillby pull out the stock he’d need for the day. Papyrus ran a towel over all the tables, cleaning what he could reach. Once Grillby’s waitress came in for the start of her shift, the boys retreated to the break room. Grillby knew the two were pretty bored cooped up in one room for the whole day, but neither were very comfortable with the idea of playing outside with the other kids. Nor were they all that comfortable in the bar proper, and now Grillby knew why.

It was an uncomfortable knowledge, knowing what the kids had gone through. He believed strongly that the Guard could help,  _ would _ help, and that was enough to help him through the day until lunch. He left his waitress in charge when the sentires entered, asking the small group to come into the back room with him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side note! D.E.C.2 is an actual real thing! Read about it here http://www.bbc.com/future/story/20150706-the-woman-who-barely-sleeps


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pain is proof it happened. Scars remind us of what we were. But they also remind us that we healed, moved on, got better. So, please, get better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this thing has over 100 kudos now!! And that's not counting the notes on tumblr or the bookmarks or the nice words and tags like !!!!! Holy heck Idk how to deal like so many blushes thank you all so much.   
> And on that note, here's my author's note: Surprise!   
> And that's the only note you're getting  
> <3333

Papyrus’s clavicle bone itched. He tried not to think about it too much, because then he might get the urge to scratch it and that would only make it  _ hurt _ . He knew from experience that it wasn’t worth it, so he just did his best to ignore it. 

Sans never did, he always wanted to scratch at his arm. It took Papyrus quite a long time to convince Sans that he should  _ rub _ at the bone instead, and it took even longer for him to put that into practice. Now he did it all the time, rubbing his humorous whenever he felt distressed or uneasy.  Or perhaps it just itched a  _ lot _ . Both were possibilities, especially considering his brother.

Sans didn’t like the barcode. He didn’t like the meaning behind it, the memories it brought up. Papyrus felt kind of ashamed that his was so easily hideable, printed across his collar and able to be covered with even a tank top. Sans couldn’t so much as wear short sleeves without part of his code peaking out from beneath the sleeve. But, at the same time, Papyrus didn’t feel much about his own code, not in the way Sans did anyways. Sure, he didn’t like it, but it wasn’t the worst thing that had ever happened to him.

No matter how much Sans had tried, Papyrus hadn’t come away completely unscathed. Part of it was because Sans slept so much more than he did. There were several scientists, after all, so there were plenty of hours where Papyrus was alone to be poked and prodded. Not that Papyrus blamed his brother, he never could, but the barcode was definitely not his worst memory. 

Papyrus decided to take his own advice and rubbed at his collar, the clavicle bone throbbing under his hand. It didn’t help much, so he was forced to stop. It didn’t help him get any sleepier either, which was the real goal here. He was stuck just staring at the ceiling, his mind itching just as badly as the bone.

Memories kept threatening to break into his thoughts, the day’s events too related to keep them away. There had been a lot of talking, a lot of sharing, and a lot of uncertainty. It was almost too much to think about, how the Royal Guard all stood there waiting as Sans and Papyrus managed to tell their story. They had all reacted similarly to how Grillby had taken it, and they had all sworn right then and there they were going to get the scientists responsible.

Well,  _ the _ scientist and his assistances. There was a bit of a difference, after all. 

Papyrus turned in bed, remembering the look Grillby had given them when Sans had shown him his barcode. Maybe that was why his own itched? It was a reminder that no matter what, Papyrus hadn’t come into the world in a normal way. He was an experiment first and foremost, even if he was also a person. 

Papyrus turned over in bed again, glad that Sans wasn’t likely to wake up from all the noise he was making. Sans had been able to sleep through the wake up alarm before, so Papyrus had no worry that he’d accidentally disturb his brother. The only thing that could ever really wake him up was a nightmare, and if he had one of those Papyrus would know about it. 

He hated that the nightmares plagued Sans, but he knew that they were normal after all that had happened. He himself got them on occasion, but not nearly as often. He also had the benefit of never remembering them, he always just woke with the feeling it left behind. 

Maybe that was why he couldn’t sleep. Maybe somewhere in his subconscious he knew he was going to have a nightmare. He huffed to himself, that thought just  _ felt _ dumb. Even if he  _ was _ a short-sleeper, even he couldn’t survive without sleep. Getting  _ no _ sleep sounded like a terrible idea. He closed his eyes extra tight, trying to force the sleep to come. He realized he was being silly and tried to relax, to make all his thoughts stop so he could sleep. 

His clavicle  _ really _ itched. 

He made a decision and shifted, his form snapping and creaking into a new one. His blaster form, the weaponized version of himself. His PJs stretched a bit at the new and unusual shape, but turning on the bed helped straighten them out. Well, as straight as they were going to get. 

He laid on his side, all four legs stuck out in front of him. He placed his muzzle on the pillow, trying to see what Sans saw in sleeping like this. It was uncomfortable, and his claws were sharp and  _ always _ managed to poke a hole in  _ something _ . He like running in his blaster form, the way he could build up in speed and continue on, but not much else. He generally only used his blaster form as a scare tactic -- a way to stop a fight before it began -- or as a last ditch attack. 

He used to get in trouble for not shifting as much. It was suppose to be a natural extension of his form, something that felt  _ normal _ . And he  _ had _ tried to make it feel that way, but it just...didn’t. It was one of the many things about him that didn’t work the way it was suppose to.

Like the blue attack. Sans could take something and turn it blue, making it believe that gravity was in whatever direction he wanted. Papyrus could do it too, but  _ his _ attack wasn’t nearly so graceful and it only worked on  _ people _ . Sans could do it to  _ anything _ . 

Like the teleporting. Sans had been able to figure it out, just with a few words as a guide. Papyrus wasn’t even certain he had that ability, because no one had told him if he did or not, but he had tried it anyways. He couldn’t do it. 

Like the regular bone attacks. They were suppose to be  _ complicated _ and  _ intricate _ , like how Sans did his, but that never seemed fair to him. Not that he hadn’t practiced it, he practiced his attacks a  _ lot _ . Sans had told him that his attacks were better, because Papyrus could control every aspect of them. He could even stop attacking the minute someone was too hurt to continue fighting, but the scientist had never seen that as a  _ skill _ only a  _ weakness _ . 

Like how he couldn’t help his brother sometimes. How sometimes things just got out of control and he’d go off and...

Papyrus whinned to himself, shooting down that train of thought before it could begin. He had managed to really bum himself out, so he took a moment and began to remind himself of all the good things he had become used to seeing. All the good things about the situation and  _ himself _ .

Like how he was getting better at cooking, thanks to Grillby’s teaching. Soon he’d be a great chef (the greatest!) and he’d work with Grillby at the bar.

Like how Sans was opening up more. Papyrus couldn’t remember the last time Sans had smiled so much.

Like how the Royal Guard was going to help them, just like they had promised. The scientist had done  _ awful _ things and was going to get caught and everything would be  _ right _ . 

Like how the nightmares would fade with time. Like how he was already skilled in magic, so when he got older he could use his talent for good (he just wasn’t sure how yet, but someone as skilled as himself clearly would find opportunity). Like how the bed was soft and the food was really good and how he had  _ toys _ and  _ books _ and his own  _ sketchbook _ . No more notebooks stolen from his brother, he had his  _ own _ proper  _ sketchbook _ . 

Thinking about it made him want to pull it out and draw something, but he couldn’t do that because he was suppose to be going to sleep. He took a moment to compose himself, then stilled his breathing. He focused on breathing slowly and evenly, turning off his mind. The good thoughts helped. He was able to forget the bad things and just keep calm, effectively lulling himself to sleep. 

The nightmare cut into his sleep, starting the minute he had finally fallen asleep. It shook him from his solid foundation of good things and threw him mercilessly down a deep and dark hole. He was asleep for only a meager three hours before he finally managed to shake himself out of it. He was especially disoriented to wake up as a blaster. He rolled around, tangled in a blanket, before crashing to floor. From there he managed to remember he didn’t  _ have _ to be a blaster and was able to shift back into Papyrus.

He thanked fortune that his brother was still asleep. He didn’t want Sans to see him crying. 

 

~~~~

 

Grillby woke when he heard the  _ thump! _ He knew what the sound was, having heard it once before, but he didn’t want to make a bad move. If Sans was having a bad nightmare, he might want to be alone rather than having Grillby come baring down on him. Grillby hoped he knew that he could come to his room, that he’d be there for him. Sans and Papyrus had both slept with Grillby after a nightmare before, but it was clear that their relationship was still rocky at best.

So Grillby just laid in bed, listening.

After a moment, his patience was rewarded. He hadn’t heard the footsteps in the hall, but there was suddenly a soft knock on his door.

“Come in,” Grillby said, sitting up. He wasn’t wearing his glasses, but Papyrus’s slim figure was recognizable even from a distance. He had to admit that he was surprised, he had been expecting Sans. He quickly hid it as he made a “come in” gesture.

Papyrus closed the bedroom door halfway (neither of the boys like having doors completely closed, for obvious reasons) and climbed into the bed. He flopped down next to Grillby, burying his face in the other pillow. 

“Nightmare?” Grillby asked, tucking the child in. Papyrus nodded. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Can’t ‘ember.” Papyrus mumbled sleepily. “Just a lot of bad feelings.”

Grillby nodded, laying down next to Papyrus. “I’m here, don’t worry.” 

Papyrus curled closer, letting out a sigh. He turned his head so his face was pointed away from Grillby. He wondered if Papyrus was crying, but he didn’t know how to ask. He decided to not, to just be there for Papyrus instead. He settled in with Papyrus at his side, trying to fall back asleep.

The two were quiet for a long time. Papyrus sniffled from time to time, the sound breaking Grillby’s heart, but it seemed like he was doing better already. Grillby couldn’t imagine what the two went through, not fully, but it must’ve been horrible if even the always happy Papyrus had nightmares. 

“Grillby?” Papyrus asked, his voice so soft that Grillby wasn’t even entirely certain he heard it at all. “Do you think...does Madeline have anything for itchiness?”

“Yeah, I’m sure she does.” Grillby responded. “What itches?”

Papyrus’s hand gave the answer away as he rubbed his collar, almost obsessively. “My clavicle bone. It’s...it’s where my code is.”

_ Oh _ . Come to think of it, it suddenly dawned on Grillby that he had never seen Papyrus’s, even though Papyrus was often in short-sleeve shirts. He wondered why Papyrus’s code was in a different place, but he didn’t want to ask. He knew he wouldn’t like the answer.

“OK. I’ll ask her tomorrow.” Tomorrow was Sunday, the one day of the week the bar was closed. Madeline most certainly wouldn’t be working either, but she probably wouldn’t mind hunting down an anti-itch cream for him. He wondered if Sans’s itched him to, remember how often the boy rubbed at his humorous, and decided to get a large bottle of whatever Madeline recommended. 

“Thank you.” Papyrus mumbled. He seemed a bit more pacified, and soon he was asleep again. He didn’t have another nightmare.

Grillby wasn’t aware he had fallen asleep himself until the creak of his door woke him up. He glance up to see Sans at the door, who looked embarrassed to have been caught. 

“Ah...sorry...” Sans mumbled. “Pap wasn’t in...wasn’t in bed and I...”

Grillby understood, finding he was not at all surprised. “It’s OK Sans, he’s here.”

Sans nodded, then he paused for a moment. After what appeared to be a mental debate, he opened the door the rest of the way and came into the room. He, too, flopped down next to Grillby, shifting into his other form. He curled up at Grillby’s leg, asleep again in minutes. Grillby smiled at him, then at Papyrus. 

Grillby was able to easily fall back asleep, but it seemed like only a minute passed before he was awake again. In actuality, it had been several hours, and the world very light outside. Papyrus was no longer next to him, but had somehow managed to find his brother in his sleep and had curled up next to him instead. Sans was laying on his back, his paws stuck in the air, Papyrus half draped over him. It was adorable, and Grillby didn’t want to ruin the moment. He tried to fall back asleep, but his internal clock was too well in tune with his work schedule. 

He very slowly worked his way free of the bed, trying to free himself without waking the two. It didn’t work at all. Sans shifted, the movement waking Papyrus. Papyrus rolled off his brother, which caused  _ Sans _ to wake up. Soon both were sitting there, looking up at Grillby and yawning.

Whoops.

“It’s OK, you two can go back to sleep.” Grillby said soothingly. “I’m just going to go get started on breakfast.”

Sans nodded, burying his head into his arms again. His hind legs kicked under the blanket, his tail flopping as he got comfortable again. Papyrus, however, climbed right out of bed, bouncing excitedly. 

“Can I help?” He said, trying to keep his voice at a whisper but not quite succeeding. 

“Sure Papyrus.” Grillby said. “Let’s leave your brother to sleep.”

Sans gave both of them a look, as if he wasn’t certain he  _ should _ fall asleep again. Finally, he yawned and settled back down, the action filling Grillby with a mixture of pride and happiness. Sans trusted Grillby to be with Papyrus while he slept; it was a sign that things wouldn’t always been uneasy in the odd group. It was a sign of healing.

Papyrus bounced excitedly as the two walked downstairs to the kitchen. Grillby could almost forget the imagine of him coming into the room, upset and fresh from a nightmare. Clearly, the kid was a master at bouncing back. Grillby didn’t know how to feel about that, so he focused on breakfast instead.

It was Sunday, and the family had nowhere to go for the day, so Grillby planned out a full breakfast. He had Papyrus crack eggs and mix them for scramble eggs while he started on the bacon. Being made of fire meant he wasn’t bothered by the popping grease, which was probably one of the few reasons he had gotten to be such a good cook in such a short period of time. Papyrus informed him that the grease was gross, but he liked the bacon when it was done.

The two ate a couple of pieces while waiting for the rest to cook. They talked about the various things that had happened over the past couple of days, trying to keep the conversation light. Eventually breakfast was done, so Papyrus bolted upstairs to wake Sans while Grillby served the plates.

Sans seemed determined to fall asleep at the table. Twice Grillby had to stop him before he fell face first into his eggs, and Papyrus teased him ruthlessly about it. 

“Well I gotta make up the sleep you  _ don’t _ get, obviously.” Sans teased back.

“That’s not how that works.” Papyrus complained, sticking out his tongue.

“How would _ you _ know, hun?” Sans said. “Just to be safe, you should let me sleep a ton more.”

“You’re so  _ lazy  _ Sans!” Papyrus was nearly yelling now, but Sans and Grillby just chuckled in amusement. Papyrus fussed over Sans like a mother hen, even though Sans was the older brother. It was actually incredibly cute. 

“You got me, bro. Just call me lazybones.” Sans said with a shrug. 

“Don’t look pleased with yourself!”

“Come on bro, it’s not like sleeping’s all that hard.” Sans winked. “In fact, I could do it with my  _ eyes closed _ .” 

Papyrus groaned loudly. Grillby hadn’t been expecting the joke, so he laughed a little bit too hard. Sans looked positively ecstatic, but obviously Papyrus had been around the jokes too much to be a good audience. Papyrus groaned louder, as if to cover up Grillby’s laughter, which made the situation all the funnier.

Bad puns and good food, a perfect morning in the making. 

Grillby cleared away the dishes, placing them carefully in the sink. He didn’t feel like hunting down a pair of rubber gloves, so the dishes remained untouched for now. He generally used Sunday afternoons for chores, opting to relax for a few hours in the morning. Sans had slipped off to the living room, already asleep when Grillby walked in on him. He clicked on the TV, turning the volume down for Sans, and wondered for a moment where Papyrus had gone. Just as he thought it, Papyrus came out of the boys’ room, carrying his sketchbook and pencils.

Grillby smiled at him. Out of everything else, the sketchbook had been the biggest thing for Papyrus. He hadn’t been able to contain his excitement, and had hugged the book practically to death. After that, he had spent nearly an hour staring at the first page, clearly unwilling to meet the daunting task of drawing on the first page of a new sketchbook. Grillby had suggested he open to random page instead, and from then on all bets had been off. Papyrus spent a lot of his free time sketching, seemingly whenever he was still long enough to hold the book on his lap.

He was surprisingly good at it, too, all things considering. He lightly drew lines with an air of practice, sketching out frames and then adding details. His proportions weren’t completely correct, but he clearly had a talent.

“You really like drawing, hun Papyrus?” Grillby asked, TV show momentarily forgotten.

Papyrus sat down on the floor in front of the couch, putting his small pile of pencils next to him.

“I used to do it all the time...” Papyrus began, but then suddenly stopped, both in words and action. He seemed to freeze up, as if only just realizing where his sentence had been leading him. He cleared his throat and looked back at Grillby, noticeably struggling to push past the brief flash of memory. “I...um...well I was left on my own...quite a bit...and we had this  _ huge _ pile of notebooks available. So I took one and I started drawing.”

Grillby felt horrible with himself. He mentally kicked himself, trying to keep his face open and calm. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s...it’s not that big of a deal.” Papyrus’s face made it clear that it  _ was _ a big deal. “Sans...well Sans didn’t like me using the notebooks is all.”

“Why not?” Grillby couldn’t help but ask. 

“Well they weren’t  _ mine _ .” Papyrus said. “I just kind of stole one. But it...it worked out. I’m glad I can sketch whenever I want now.” He smiled, but it was forced. Grillby let the matter drop, watching as Papyrus managed to calm himself enough to begin sketching. 

For a long while, the two didn’t say anything. On occasion, Sans would snore softly, and the TV was a easy distraction. Papyrus didn’t look up from his sketchbook, keeping it balanced on his lap and bending over it with serious concentration. He focused entirely on the drawing, moving only to stretch out his spine from time to time. Grillby resisted the impulse to tell him that sitting like that was bad for his health; he doubted the kid would even hear him at this point.

After about an hour, Papyrus seemed to finish the sketch. He stared at it, his hand on the bottom of the book, for a solid minute. Then he flipped the page, staring at a clean sheet for another several seconds. Finally he sighed and closed the sketchbook, placing it to his side while he looked up at the TV.

Grilly had questions, quite a lot of them. He wanted to know more about the boys’ experiences, mostly so he could help them. He knew that getting them to talk about it would only help them, both for their own sake and also so Grillby could help them through flashbacks and nightmares. But, in a small and kind of morbid way, he was also just curious. There were missing pieces in the story, things the kids had yet to explain, and he didn’t like not having the full story.

Did he  _ need _ to have the full story? No. He should just drop the line of thinking entirely; the kids would talk when they were ready to.

But...god there were  _ so many questions _ . Even now, he found himself analyzing the things Papyrus had said. Wherever they had live before, they hadn’t had much entertainment but they had had...notebooks? A “huge pile” of notebooks? Why? 

How had the two actually managed to escape? Where had they managed to escape  _ from _ ? Who was the scientist, and why had he tried to make Sans and Papyrus into weapons? What had been the end goal? Had they really been  _ created _ in a lab? How was that even possible? 

Still, Grillby made sure he didn’t ask any of them.  _ Having _ questions was understandable,  _ asking _ them was not. The last thing he wanted to do was to hurt either of them.

The thought reminded him that he promised Papyrus to look for anti-itch cream. He also had a grocery list started, going from feeding one person to three had all but spent his cupboard, so he would eventually need to go shopping later on. 

“Sometime today, I’ll need to go shopping.” Grillby said to Papyrus. Papyrus turned to look at him, curious. “Would you two want to come with, or would you prefer to stay here?”

Sans was only ten years old, five years older than Papyrus, but the two were very calm and mature for children. Besides, Grillby didn’t want to overwhelm them with a bunch of strangers and public places. Especially not when the entire town would recognize them as the skeleton puppies (more than half had seen them as children, after all) and ask them a bunch of questions. 

“Or I could even have Madeline come over to watch you two while I’m out, if you’d be more comfortable like that.” Grillby added. Madeline would definitely be willing, and she was certainly qualified with  _ her _ family. 

“Um...” Papyrus spaced out, looking almost overwhelmed with the choice. “I...I don’t...I don’t know, can you ask Sans?” 

Grillby nodded, nudging Sans. It took a couple of attempts, but soon Sans was awake. Grillby waiting until he was fully focused before repeating the question. 

“I can watch Pap.” Sans said. “You go shopping, we’ll be here.”

He looked completely awake. He slipped off the couch to sit on the floor with Papyrus. Papyrus looked relieved as well, so Grillby didn’t bother to push it. Whatever made them comfortable, that was all he cared about. 

He went upstairs and got dressed before leaving for the shop. He told the boys he’d be back in less than an hour, reminding them where the shop was in case they needed him. He doubted they step so much as a foot outside of the house, but it was better to be safe than sorry. 

Thinking that, however, he also wrote down Madeline’s phone number, showing Sans where the house phone was and how to work it. Finally feeling satisfied the two weren’t going to injure themselves, he went out to the shop, locking the door tightly behind him.

It was shaping up to be a normal day, with a light breeze and fresh snow. The crystals on the ceiling mimicked sunlight off the snow, making all of Snowdin very light and cheery. People went about their business, same as normal.

Grillby whistled as he walked, his voice like the cackling of a fire. He walked quickly to the shop, a tiny thing run by one of the bunnies, and asked for Madeline. Madeline turned out to be visiting her aunt next door, so Grillby decided to visit her before getting any shopping down.

He met her in the lobby of the Snowed Inn. She had a very good recommendation for anti-itch cream, and promised to keep her phone on her in case the two called. She also told him that she was willing to babysit any time she didn’t have a patient, and that she could ask any one of her siblings to babysit as well. Feeling much more relieved, Grillby went back to the shop and began to get his groceries.

Perhaps he should think about getting a cell phone himself. It’d save some trouble. The only problem with that was that the closest electronics store was out in Hotland, which would mean either a terrifying trip on the River Person’s boat or a potentially lethal trip through Waterfall. Certainly it’d be something for another day off, if anything else.

Grillby had just finished up when the Dogi walked in. 

“Grillby!” Dogamy said when he saw him. “We were just looking for you.”

“What about?” Grillby asked, his thoughts flying straight to his boys.

“(The case, of course.)” Dogaressa explained. “(Some information has come up.)”

At first, Grillby was excited, but then he caught the look on their faces. Well, more accurately, the  _ lack _ of one. He found he couldn’t read their expressions at all. “ _ Good _ information, I hope?”

The two looked at each other, as if uncertain. “Well...” Dogamy began.

“(A mixture of good and bad...)” Dogaressa finished.

Good and bad? The  _ last _ thing they needed was bad news. But, news was news, and any information about the case was  _ important _ .

“I’m on my way home now, actually.” Grillby said, gesturing with his grocery bags. “We can talk there.” The two nodded, following him home.

It took him several minutes to attempt to unlock his door with the bags, but before the dogs could help the door was thrown opened by a very excited Papyrus. His expression fell slightly when he saw the dogs, but he was still quick to offer to help with the groceries. When the group entered the house, Sans was quick to get up and cross over to Papyrus, uncertainty loud in his features. The two were still very quick to defend the other, and the sight of even the now well known Guard members made them uncomfortable. Grillby wished he had had the chance to warn them about this visit. 

Grillby asked the two to put the groceries away, giving Papyrus the anti-itch lotion personally. Papyrus bounced excitedly, and was quick to tell Sans about it. The two disappeared into the kitchen, leaving the dogs and Grillby alone in the living room.

Private, but not entirely. From here, the boys could easily listen in. Grillby briefly wondered this setup was a good idea, but, frankly, he didn’t even like  _ thinking _ about keeping secrets from the two. It was  _ their _ case, afterall. If they didn’t want to listen in, they didn’t need to, but he’d prefer them to have the choice.

“What’s this news, then?” Grillby asked, keeping his voice even. He sat on the couch, gesturing for the couple to do the same.

“(We looked into labs, mostly those centered in Hotland and the Capital)” Dogaressa began, taking a seat. Her husband sat next to her, the two leaning on each other.  “(We... _ think _ we found the lab that the two are from)”

Grillby blinked, shocked. They had found that much  _ already _ ? “But that’s great news!” He said, watching as the two exchanged another look.

“Well...yes and no.” Dogamy said. “We think it was the lab of the Royal Scientist. We uncovered some...well some rather dark notes.”

The Royal Scientist? Grillby didn’t know much about the guy, just that he had built the Core, the object that gave everyone in the Underground power. It had been a  _ very _ big deal when the Core had been completed, but there hadn’t been much news on the actual scientist himself. Grillby didn’t even know his name. 

“(The problem is, Grillby.)” Dogaressa began. “(The Royal Scientist himself has gone missing. We...we suspect that he may be dead.)”

Grillby could hear his flame crackling, a telltale sign of his shock. “Dead? How?”

“(An accident, one of the bridges inside the Core collapsed.)” Dogaressa continued. “(The Royal Scientist and his assistants all appear to be casualties. It’s just...with this information and...)”

“We’re not trying to say that you’re boys are in  _ trouble _ or anything.” Dogamy picked up, Grillby very used to how the two often spoke conversations together rather than separate. “But we just...the accident happened less than a week before Sans and Papyrus first appeared in Snowdin.”

_ Oh. Ooooh.  _ Grillby felt something cold slid into his stomach. “You think they...”

“If they did, it would’ve been completely in self defense.” Dogamy said quickly. It didn't help Grillby much, he couldn’t shake the sudden unease he felt. “But it does raise questions. Specifically about the Royal Scientist, but also...”

“(We’d prefer to hear the story from the boys themselves)” Dogaressa clarified. “(No one blames them, but...well if only for the record.)”

Grillby didn’t know what to say. Really, it wasn’t his decision to make, its was the kids’, but he didn’t want to put that pressure on them. Papyrus couldn’t even casually mention drawing without bringing forth memories, there was  _ no way _ the two were going to be able to talk about their escape. 

Grillby couldn’t imagine it. Couldn’t imagine being forced into a situation where killing someone was the only way out. He couldn’t imagine Sans or Papyrus being able to  _ make _ that decision. Sans was defensive, sure, but Grillby still couldn’t picture him doing something like that. And Papyrus was much too... _ Papyrus _ to do anything that violent. Or allow his brother to do anything like that. How could they have  _ killed _ anyone? 

But how else could they have escaped? Grillby didn’t pretend to know everything about the situation, but from what he  _ did _ know this scientist had be ruthless. Had there just not been another way out? 

“And for all we know, they didn’t.” Dogamy said, as if sensing Grillby’s heistance. “This could all be coincidence.” 

Grillby cleared his throat, trying not to think too hard about his boys... _ doing _ something like that. But, really,  _ how _ could that be a coincidence? “What...what files?”

Dogaressa answered that one. “(He had a secondary lab, one separate for personal work. It was locked up tightly, that’s for sure, and we think some of the notes found there were about Sans and Papyrus, though they were referred to by the...)” She had to pause for a moment. “(By the barcode numbers.)”

“Most of it is chicken scratch, or scientific notes. But there were...other things.” Dogamy gave Grillby a sympathetic look. “Photos, notebooks, things like that. Nothing...nothing  _ good _ .” 

“But it’s enough evidence?” Grillby asked.

“Undoubtedly.” Dogamy nodded solemnly. “It matches up to what the two said. They were...somehow  _ created _ in that lab.”

Grillby didn’t know how to feel. In a weird sort of way, he was relieved. In part because they had the evidence they needed, the proof that the boys were who they said they were. But he was also relieved to know that the scientist the two spoke so fearfully of was gone. Sure, it was sad to know that someone had died, but he couldn’t care about that. Sans and Papyrus were safe now, and  _ that _ was what mattered. 

“We do still...well there’s some things we’d like to clear up with the boys.” Dogamy continued. 

“(Not just about their escape)” Dogaressa clarified. “(But we wont push them. They can share what they want as they feel comfortable.)”

Grillby nodded, expecting that sort of answer. He knew the Guard  _ needed _ to question them now, but he also knew that they were all as apprehensive about hurting the two as he was. Hopefully, the kids would be able to give the information they needed.

Grillby stood. “I’ll go talk to them.”

The boys were still only about halfway through the groceries when he got to the kitchen. They had stacked some things off to the side, clearly they were too short to reach the higher shelves, and Papyrus was sitting on the counter. He jumped down when he saw Grillby, smiling perfectly innocently.

“Hi!” He said. “We’re just...doing the groceries, yup.” 

His smile was very, very forced. Sans wasn’t smiling at all, just standing there was a bag in his hands. He had a faraway look in his eyes, and he seemed abnormally nervous around the flame monster. 

“How much did you two hear?” Grillby asked, feeling very concerned. Maybe he should’ve asked the dogs to talk to him about it in a more private location.

Papyrus’s grin faltered, then dropped entirely. “Um...kind of everything?” He said.

Sans put his bag down on the table before sitting down at a chair himself. He pulled his legs up with him, his chin on his knees and his arms wrapped around himself. Papyrus watched him for a minute, more concern written in his face than Grillby could’ve credit him  _ having _ . Papyrus walked over and gently placed a hand on Sans’s shoulder, which made him cringe. Papyrus didn’t seem to know how to handle that, letting his hand drop suddenly. 

“It’s OK.” Grillby found himself saying. He crossed the room and kneeled next to Sans, getting himself at eye level to the boy. “You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to. The Guard just has some questions is all.” 

Papyrus looked at Grillby. “Can you please...” He started, but then stopped suddenly. He took a breath. “Can you please leave him alone?” 

Grillby backed off almost instantly. He stood and took a couple steps back, suddenly aware of how overbearing he must look. “Of course. I’ll be in the living room. I’ll send the dogs home.”

Papyrus looked relieved that Grillby was actually leaving them alone. He turned back to his brother, but at that moment Sans looked up. He was crying, and his left eye was glowing softly.

“Wait...” Sans began, wiping his face. “No...I’m...I have to...”

Sans took several moments to pull himself together. He cleaned his face using his sleeve, and while he looked very much like he was on the verge of a meltdown he slipped off the chair. He walked past Grillby, Papyrus keeping close to his side.

The dogs both stood when they saw the kids. Perhaps the lack of privacy went both ways and  _ they _ had heard everything, or perhaps they just saw the look on the kids’ faces, but the two looked uneasy all of a sudden. 

Dogaressa carefully wore a smile, trying to console them. “(Hello boys.)” She began. “(We just have a few questions for you two, but you don’t have to answer them if you don’t want to.)” 

Sans shook his head. “I...can I see those files?” He asked, surprising everyone. Even Papyrus looked surprised, grasping his brother’s arm. Sans was fidgeting, twisting his shirt nervously in his hands, but he looked dead on at the dogs.

“Why would you want to...” Dogamy began, but Sans continued.

“I need to see some of them.” He said. “It’s...I need to see all the files on 01, it’s important.”

“Sans, why do you want your files?” Grillby asked. He was confused, but he was mostly worried. Wasn’t experiencing it firsthand bad enough? Why did Sans feel he needed to read his files?

Sans shook his head. “No, not  _ my _ files, 01’s.”

Grillby felt his brow furrow, but he realized with a start that Sans was right.  _ His _ barcode had said Nu. 02 on it, hadn’t it? Did that make Papyrus 01? But...Sans was older. 

“Sans, who was 01?” Grillby asked. Had there really been another one of them? But, where was this child now...?

Papyrus looked at Grillby, his eyes misty. He rubbed his face as Sans’s gaze fixated on the floor. It took Sans several seconds to compose himself enough to speak.

“01 was our older brother.” Sans began. “His name got changed a lot, but in the end it was W. D. Gaster. I... I think that he was the one who killed those scientists.” 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darker yet Darker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Slams this down on a metaphorical desk- Alright LISTEN UP PEEPS BECAUSE SHIT'S REAL.  
> This is legit probably one of the darkest things I've ever written, and it will easily be the darkest chapter of this entire fic. It's ALL FLASHBACK to when the kids were in the lab, and I plan to sum it up in the next chapter.  
> It's a lot of abuse, physical and mental, and things die. If you don't feel comfortable reading this you are more than welcome to skip it. I doubt this chapter will be 100% necessary to read the rest of the fic, and I'll post if it ever will be.  
> That said, I will be updating the tags as well. I'm also bumping this up to a T rating, but again I'm still really kind of new to all this so if you feel I've mistagged or misrated this please don't hesitate to let me know.   
> Also! I want to send a lot of love to all the people who sent me kudos, gave me comments, said nice things here and on tumblr, and to everyone who actually likes this!! Like holy hell!! Seriously I love you all SOO much it's unreal <333333

When Gaster first blinked his eyes open, he had no idea where he was. He stared unseeing into the room, trying to mentally feel his way around his head. As the feeling of disconnection faded, he began to piece himself together.

He was sitting on the floor, slumped against the wall and most certainly  _ not _ on his cot. Surrounding him was the torn up pages from one of the many notebooks, weird symbols and mathematical equations scrawled across them. His hand was cramping, and one of the pens was lying broken next to his leg. His pants were also stained badly from the ink, but he really couldn’t find it in himself to care about that.

He must’ve had another fit, or another episode, or whatever it was  _ actually _ called. He must’ve blacked out and the  _ other _ him had come through. Gaster quickly shot a worried look to Sans’s cot, not the least bit surprised to see both of his brothers curled up there. Both were also in their blaster forms, curled around each other for protection.

Protection from  _ him _ . It made him sick to his stomach, unable to even think about what he’d put his brothers through. 

He began to pull his legs in, wincing when he realized how sore he was. The other him had no sympathy for his physical form, it only wanted his mind. He often felt tired and sore after an episode, and this time was no different. He wanted to curl up and sleep for a thousand years, preferably on his cot but the wall could work too. He moved his leg again instead, knowing better than to let it just stay cramped up. 

As he began to stretch, Papyrus slowly sat up, his eyes blinking open. His eyes widened when he saw Gaster there, and within half a second he was back in his normal form.

“Gaster!” Papyrus wasn’t the best whisperer, but Gaster didn’t worry about him waking up Sans. Sans was difficult to wake on the best of days; once that kid was asleep, he was  _ asleep _ . “Are you OK?”

Gaster managed to make a grin around the throbbing in his bones. He himself had no memory of the episodes, but with the way Sans avoided looking at him afterwards, he knew they had to be terrifying to watch. Papyrus never acted like that though, he was always concerned with how  _ Gaster _ was feeling. The poor kid had had to put up with so much from him, but he was always so kind and understanding.

“I’m fine.” Gaster mumbled, his voice hoarse. He didn’t feel like trying to sign the words as he spoke, but if he spoke slow enough Papyrus would understand him anyways. Besides, Papyrus was terrible with sign language. 

The scientist never could understand his spoken language. He had gotten so  _ mad _ when Gaster first started talking in it, insisting right then and there that Gaster learn sign language. Once he had, he had been forbidden from talking outside of the room completely. Inside their small, shared bedroom was the only place where Gaster’s voice got any exercise at all. 

Papyrus seemed to think over his words for a minute, then smiled sympathetically at him. He detangled himself from Sans carefully, movement around him being one of the few things that actually woke him up. When Papyrus was finally free he walked to where Gaster was sitting. 

Gaster had, at some point, settled at the foot of Papyrus’s cot, a mere two or so feet away from his own. Their room comprised of the three cots, one for each wall, and then the door. Until Gaster started having these odd episodes, that was the only things allowed in the room. Now they had the notebooks and the pens and pencils as well.

Papyrus sat at the foot of his cot, legs crossed, and looked down as Gaster continued to try to stretch out. “You sure you’re OK?” He asked, concerned. “You don’t usually tear up pages. You broke a pen too.”

Gaster looked at the mess around his legs. Seemed like something had gone wrong in his equations, and he had torn apart the pages in frustration. The actual notebook in question was all the way across the room, looking very much like it had been thrown. Gaster began to stand, his legs protesting loudly. He gripped the edge of Papyrus’s cot for support, Papyrus sitting up like he wasn’t certain if he should help or not. Gaster tried to give him a reassuring smile, but it was probably lost somewhere between his thoughts and face. 

The room was only a few dozen feet in perimeter, easily one of the smallest rooms in the entire lab, but to Gaster it might as well have been the biggest room in the world. He stumbled most of the way there, but he eventually made it over to the end of Sans’s cot. He practically collapsed again, lowering himself to the floor so he could pick up the notebook. Standing up again would take way more effort than he had in him, so he just stayed on the floor. He could almost feel Sans’s breathing from here, the kid was  _ really _ asleep.

“You don’t need to read that.” Papyrus told him. “You should get some sleep, the alarm is due to go off in a few hours.”

Papyrus, being the short-sleeper of their group, kept startling good track of the time. And he was right, as well. Gaster  _ should _ go to sleep, he had probably been up all night scribbling in the damn notebooks. But he was obsessed with this, he  _ needed _ to know what was so important to the other him that it  _ had _ to write it all down.

Not that he could ever understand it, he wasn’t entirely certain anyone could. The only benefit  _ he _ had was that the symbols all translated into words for him, easily, but that didn’t make the words  _ themselves _ make any more sense. 

Wingdings, the odd symbols were called, or so he was told. The scientist had even taken to calling him “Wing Ding Gaster” or “W.D.” for short. Gaster hated it, but he couldn’t very well say anything about it; he was already on thin ice. Thin enough that Sans had become the scientist’s new favorite plaything. If he slipped, he would fall. He couldn’t let that happen, he couldn’t leave Sans and Papyrus to defend themselves alone. He was their big brother, so he had to stick with them and protect them. That’s what brothers  _ did _ . The only problem was it was looking more and more like he was a  _ danger _ to his brothers than anything else. 

“I’m certain the scientist won’t mind if I sleep in.” Gaster spoke softly, trying not to strain his rarely used voice. “Especially when he sees that I filled another notebook.” 

Whatever it was the other him was writing, the scientist was  _ deeply _ interested in. He always took finished notebooks, grinning stupidly into them whenever he did so. Gaster  _ hated _ that. Why did his torture have to bring the scientist joy? He didn’t want to  _ help _ the man, he wanted to  _ hurt him _ . He wanted him to pay for everything he’d ever done. 

He hated the episodes especially, hated that they were a side effect of the scientist messing with his head. The first time he had had an episode, he had just completely blacked out. It had happened right in the middle meal time, not a week after the fatal experiment that caused it all. The new cracks in his head had been hurting badly, and he couldn’t figure out why he was suddenly talking in such a weird way. Sans had been able to understand him, saying it was like he was talking with a “thick accent” of some kind, but at the time Papyrus hadn’t understood a word. He been cursing the world and the scientist both when he suddenly just...blacked out. 

According to Sans, his eyes had lit up purple, a color they had never seen used before. He had suddenly jumped to his feet, food forgotten, and paced obsessively around the room. Apparently, he had been muttering nonsense even Sans couldn’t understand, and he hadn’t seemed to notice that Sans and Papyrus were even  _ there _ . The scientist had shown up then, demanding that Gaster stop. Gaster had only come to when his soul was turn blue and he was thrown against a wall.

The second time was even worse. It had been in the middle of the night, so Gaster had no recollection of it at all. He had somehow managed to free one of the screws from the cot, and,  using it like a chisel, had begun to carve into the floor and walls. Sans and Papyrus had both woken up from the noise, and they had both attempted to stop him, but Gaster hadn’t noticed them. This time when the scientist had shown up he still hadn’t come to. He had been thrown against the wall again, but apparently the purple glow hadn’t stopped that time. The other him had just waited patiently for the scientist to release him, and then had just gone right back to carving.

He had carved everywhere he could reach, which had been nearly the entire room. Even the ceiling had been attacked, though he had been hindered by his height slightly. According to Sans he had managed to drag his cot around the room, standing on it to carve. Sans and Papyrus had been moved to another room entirely, but Gaster hadn’t even  _ noticed _ .

After that, the three of them had been switched to this (slightly smaller) room, and he had been given the notebooks. Apparently, the carvings had intrigued the scientist. Even though he had inadvertently giving the kids a method of entertainment, he didn’t seem to mind so much. At least the other him used them wisely, always filling in every single possible line, using both sides of the paper, and even scrawling on the  _ covers _ before moving onto the next notebook. This was the first time he had ever destroyed pages before, though he had wrecked erasures trying to rewrite his math a few times. He wondered if the math the other him was trying to work through was hard. It certainly seemed frustrating, at the very least.

Gaster opened his notebook, looking through the pages. The gloom of the room made it a bit difficult, but there was just enough light to read. The words all translated for him, nice and neatly, but nothing about the book made sense to him. The book was dotted with science talk, words like “thermonuclear” and “electromagnetic” and “The Coulomb barrier.” Nothing about it made sense to him, which made the situation all the weirder. He could see the pen strokes, he could almost  _ feel _ them, in fact. It was  _ his _ handwriting,  _ he _ had written this, and yet he couldn’t figure out a word. 

He had a vague idea what the whole of it was. The other him was drawing up blueprints, blueprints to something  _ massive _ . Gaster had a rough idea in his head of what the object would look like when it was completed, he even had a rough idea of what it  _ did _ , but trying to read the tiny details that made it run was impossible. Still, he needed to  _ skim _ the notebooks, at the very least. He needed to know. 

This notebook seemed to be tackling the inner workings of his device, the sketches showing him the flow of the magnets as they propelled magma into some kind of chamber. Using its own heat and kinetic energy, the magma would continuously heat up, creating energy. Gaster understood that much, looking at the diagrams, but he didn’t really get how the magma translated into power. He decided to ignore that part and look at the pages  _ after _ the torn ones.

It seemed he had been having trouble trying to find a way to  _ keep _ the magma in the chamber. Scientific and magical equations dotted around, many of them followed with question marks. Apparently the other him had just given up, surrendering control so that he could work it out another day.

The scientist wouldn’t like it. He would want the  _ entire _ solution, and he always seemed to think that Gaster knew more about the whole thing than he was leading on. He sighed and tried standing again, feeling more rested than before. He gathered up the torn pages, folding them in half and shoving them back into the notebook. He placed the written one on top of the stack, then pushed the stack back under his cot. He flopped on the thin material, burying his face in his pillow.

“How many hours?” Gaster asked Papyrus.

“About four.” Papyrus answered, knowing instantly what he was talking about.

“Damn.” Gaster mumbled. He was going to need more than four. He was about to ask Papyrus to make sure he was awake at the alarm, but he had already fallen asleep before he could figure out the words.

All too soon, it was morning. Gaster woke with a start as the alarm blared, blinking furiously in the suddenly bright room. Papyrus was sitting with his back to the wall, his own notebook on his lap. He quickly jumped off the bed, shoving the book under the bed. Sans furrowed his brow in his sleep, but didn’t move until Papyrus jumped on his cot. Sleepily he managed to shift back into his normal form.

The alarm clicked off just as suddenly as it began. Gaster flopped his head down again, groaning loudly.

“Hear hear” Sans mumbled, which was  _ really _ funny to Gaster in his sleepless state. The two started cackling madly to each other, Papyrus groaning loudly at their stupidness. Eventually the two managed to calm down, rolling this way and that on their cots in an effort to wake up. 

In the light, the room didn’t look any better. It was still just as small, but with white light filling in every crevice. The door looked ominous though, the tinted window like a misplaced shadow. In the light, it was  _ very _ obvious that there was no doorknob on this side.

Gaster sat up, rubbing the sleepiness from his face. He was careful to go around the cracks in his skull, but the holes in his hands rubbed the bones weird. He decided to stop, rubbing the side of his hand against his eye sockets instead. He wasn’t ready to face the day, not by a long shot, but he stood up anyways. Getting caught sleeping in was definitely not worth it. 

Sans took some convincing. It took both Papyrus’s pestering and Gaster’s tugging to get him out of bed. From there it looked like he was just going to fall asleep again standing up, so Gaster started trying to get him to move around the room.

“Come on  _ lazy _ , you gotta walk off the sleepiness.” Gaster insisted.

“How are you even  _ alive _ right now?” Sans asked through a yawn. “Did you even get  _ any _ sleep?”

“I’m  _ fine _ , I’m more worried about you.” Gaster insisted, though if he was being honest with himself the floor looked just as comfortable as the cots did right now. “Now come on and  _ move _ a bit, or I’ll get Papyrus to sit on you.”

“Yeah!” Papyrus added helpfully. “I’ll ride piggy back and doodle all over your skull.”

They were rewarded with a soft chuckle. Sans moved a bit more for them, stretching and yawning. He didn’t look as awake as Gaster would’ve liked, but within that same second he stopped thinking about Sans entirely. A familiar noise echoed down the hall outside their door.

It was the buzz the door in the hallway made. From this distance, it was very quiet, but all three of them froze up instantly, Sans suddenly looking  _ very _ awake. They only ever heard that buzzing noise when people entered their wing of the lab. They’d never been beyond that hall door, though they had seen people come and go through it multiple times.

The sound it made was seared into Gaster’s mind. It meant someone was  _ here _ .

Gaster held his breath as the sound of footsteps started to grow. He reached out and grabbed Papyrus’s hand, squeezing it slightly. Sans took a small step forward, ready to be the one called out. Or perhaps he was ready to be the front row, to defend his brothers. The sight of it filled Gaster with a sorrow he couldn’t quite describe.  _ He _ was the oldest, it should fall to  _ him _ to protect his brothers. But, clearly, Sans saw that he wasn’t much good for that, not when the scientist and him disagreed too readily.

The footsteps cross the door but then continued on. All three breathed a loud sigh of relief. Just one of the assistants then. 

Sans walked back to his cot and sat down, Gaster finding it impossible to complain. Papyrus looked hyped on energy, but there was nothing in the room for him to do. He flopped back down on his own cot, bouncing on it. 

Gaster was left the only one standing, but he had a funny feeling that if he sat down he’d lay down, and if he laid down he was going to fall asleep again. So he stood, walking over to Papyrus’s side of the room and leaned on the wall.

“Hey...so, um...” Sans began, looking up at Gaster. “Do you um...do you remember anything from last night?”

Gaster frowned. “No actually, but I think I can guess some of it. Why?”

He was suddenly very worried. If he had been tearing up notebooks had he also been threatening his brothers? What exactly was he  _ doing _ during the blackouts? 

“Well you um...” Sans had to stop for a moment, playing with his pillow nervously. Gaster had a feeling this news wasn’t going to be good. “You  _ spoke _ . Well, not  _ you  _ you but the...the other you.”

Gaster blinked, shocked. “Has he never...?” He hadn’t heard any stories of the other Gaster speaking. 

“No,” Sans shook his head. “This was the first time. He sounded like you but... _ more _ distorted? Like it was really hard to understand.”

“I couldn’t understand him at all.” Papyrus added. “But I only vaguely understand you normally so...”

Gaster spared a moment to give his brother an understanding smile. Papyrus, unfortunately, was no better at sign language than he was at wingdings. Gaster understood completely, but sometimes Papyrus felt guilty about it. 

“What did he...what did I say?” Gaster asked.

Sans fidgeted. “He just... He looked at me, like  _ dead  _ at me and then he...” Sans’s brow creased as he thought about it. “He said ‘you can do it too’.”

Gaster blinked, confused. “‘You can do it too’?” He quoted, feeling slightly silly. “Do what?”

Sans shrugged. “I haven’t got a clue, I was kind of hoping you might know.”

The weirdest part was, he felt like he  _ should _ know. There was an uncomfortable itch in the back of his mind, something was telling him he  _ did _ know he just couldn’t  _ remember _ . The feeling was uncomfortable, and it made him call things into question.

How much of the other Gaster was actually _him_? How much of the episodes could he control? If he tried harder, could he stop them? Could he push through them, and stop scaring his brothers?   
But he wasn’t even aware when they were _happening_. How could he push past that? 

Gaster shook his head. “I...” He began, meeting Sans’s concerned look. “I feel like I  _ should _ know, but I don’t. I’ll let you know if it comes back to me.”

It wasn’t just about him anymore. If the other him was talking to his brothers, then that meant they were involved. Gaster needed to figure it out, because he needed to keep his brothers safe. 

Just then, they heard the buzz again. Gaster stood straight as Sans and Papyrus both froze. They listened as the footsteps moved down the hall.

Something in Gaster’s head clicked with the noise. He  _ knew _ it was the scientist this time, he knew it on some sort of subconscious level. He took a step out into the open so that he was the first thing the scientist would see.

As predicted, the footsteps stopped outside their door, and as soon as the footsteps stopped there was a soft vibrating noise as the scientist scanned his hand against the door lock. Papyrus whimpered slightly, backing up against the wall. Gaster’s hand clenched into a fist, but he forced himself to relax. He didn’t need to start anything with the scientist today. After a pause, the lock beeped and there was a small  _ click _ as it released.

The scientist was a terrible person, but he looked oddly normal. Looking at him, you couldn’t imagine what he did in his free time. Gaster hated every  _ inch _ of his face. In fact, he hated it so much he often found he couldn’t describe it. He’d know the scientist anywhere, in the midst of any crowd, but if he had been asked to explain what he looked like, Gaster wouldn’t be able to do it. 

All that really connected his mind to the doctor was the color white, specifically white coats. The scientist wore a lab coat during every hour he was with the three of them, a badge clipped to his breast pocket. Gaster had read the name on the badge perhaps a million times since he was first created, but he knew the name less than the face. 

Today, the scientist was carrying a clipboard, looking up what was probably an agenda of some kind. He didn’t look up from it as he placed a foot on the threshold of the room.

“03” He said, waving a hand. 

Papyrus paled considerably. Gaster stepped over to him, trying to shield him from view. He was too young for this, too small and too innocent. As much as Gaster hated it when Sans was taken, he hated it even more when the scientist decided to pick on Papyrus. 

The scientist looked up after only a second or two, noticing instantly that Papyrus hadn’t responded. His eyes found Gaster instantly and he glared.

“Move.” He told him, his voice harsh and to the point. 

Some small part of Gaster’s mind reminded him that he really didn’t have any control here. The scientist was going to take Papyrus, no matter what he did. All he was doing right now was delaying the inevitable, and putting another note on his long track record of rebellion. Still, he felt his hands clench into fists, standing his ground.

He really,  _ really _ didn’t stand a chance. The scientist simply sighed, then turned his soul blue. Faster than he could blink, Gaster found himself pinned to the wall above his cot, across the room from the door. The wind was knocked out of his nonexistent lungs, stopping any chance he might have had to struggle. Not that it would’ve helped anyways.

“03” The scientist said again. Papyrus didn’t hesitate, he jumped from his cot and practically ran over. Sans stood as well, but one look from the scientist froze him in place. Sans looked like he was mentally tearing the man apart, but the scientist just ignored him. 

The door shut, leaving the two alone with a final  _ click _ of the lock. The blue effect ended as quickly as it had started, dropping Gaster awkwardly on his cot. He fell, half of him crashing on the floor. His face was pressed against the ground, his legs sprawled half on the cot and half in the air. 

_ Oh _ . His mind whirled, his fingers twitched, and he felt his one good eye widen slightly.  _ Oh oh oh oh oh! _

He rolled over, the rest of him falling off the cot and onto the floor. Vaguely he was aware of Sans calling his name. He was staring unseeing at the ceiling, but he was mildly aware of a soft purple glow.

_ Oh. Oh!! Of course!  _

Of course Sans could do it too. They all could, even little Papyrus. Why wouldn’t they be able to?

Gaster chuckled softly to himself, now much more aware of Sans’s hands on his shoulders. He blinked, the imagine of his brother finally coming into view. His vision was hazy for a moment, but the purple glow faded from his eyes and he was soon able to see again.

“You  _ can _ do it too.” Gaster mumbled.

“Yeah, okey dokey Dings, now come on...” Sans began trying to haul Gaster up, trying to get him to sit up. Gaster tried to help, but he was suddenly  _ very _ dizzy. He wobbled, leaning on his cot for support.

He could do it too. He knew he could. He reached out his hand, aiming it at the pillow on Sans’s cot. For a second there, a small part of him was worried it wouldn’t work. That he was delusional for thinking he had any power in him at all. But just as he thought that, he hand began to glow softly blue. The pillow also began to glow blue, then it flung itself at him. Gaster got a face full of it, startling the hell out of Sans. Luckily it was only a pillow, and nothing heavy.

“What the...!!” Sans began, staring at him. Gaster put the pillow on his lap, leaning his chin into it with a satisfied sigh. He stared up at his brother.

“You can do it too.” He told him. “We all can.”

Sans looked at his cot, at the pillow, at Gaster, then at his own hand, his eyes widening with each passing second. “No shit? We can...we can use blue too?”

Gaster nodded, but then immediately regretted it as dots started popping up in his vision. “You can use it on objects, like I can, but Paps can only use it on people. He’s really good at using it in a fight though.” 

“Gaster...” Sans began, but Gaster was on a roll now.

“It’s not  _ quite _ telekinesis, you just have to convince the object that gravity is in a different direction.” Gaster continued. His head were starting to hurt, his vision still swimming slightly, so he closed his eyes. He tried not to  _ think _ about what he was saying, he just needed to get it out. “But you’re really good at fiddling with it. Your control is much better than mine, but I never practice it so maybe that’s why. You can switch the gravity mid-use, so you can get things to hover. In a few years, Papyrus will be able to do that too. It’ll come in handy if one your friends falls or something.”

“Gaster...!” Sans sounded really worried now. “I don’t understand...!”

“Of course, Papyrus is much better at the regular attacks.” Gaster felt like he was going to doze off. God he was  _ so tired _ . Was he just rambling? “Don’t ever let him think he’s not, OK? He’s just as strong as anyone, even when he doesn’t want to hurt people...”

“Gaster!” Sans was yelling now. Gaster’s eyes snapped open, and he lost the train of thought. He was suddenly aware of Sans’s shock, of the near horror on his face. The sleepiness faded as Gaster kicked himself for being so stupid. Why had he just run off with that? Nothing he had said had made any sense!

“What...” Sans began, looking concerned. “What are you talking about?”

Gaster sighed, tightening his hold on himself. “I don’t even know anymore. It just... _ felt _ ...important?”

Sans stared at him for a few minutes, then sat down next to him. Gaster turned so his back was to the cot, leaning on both it and his brother. For a long while, the two didn’t talk.

Gaster felt stupid all of a sudden. Here he was rambling on about the blue attack when his brother was out with the scientist. How dumb was that? He couldn’t help but feel annoyed with himself, even as the worry in his gut began to build. Papyrus didn’t deserve any of this, he should be living with a caring family with a lot of toys and room to run around. There was nothing good for him  _ here _ . 

For a while, Gaster was just left to wallow in his worry and self disgust.  

“Hey Gaster...” Sans finally spoke up, his voice soft. “What...what did you mean by ‘I never practice mine’?”

Gaster furrowed his brow. “What?”

“You said that. You said you never practice your blue attack and that’s why I’m better at it.” Sans tilted his head towards Gaster. “But today’s the first time you did it, right?”

Sans was completely correct...but...

Using the blue attack had felt completely natural. Instinctual even, as if he had done it a million times before.

“Yeah, today was the first time I did it.” Gaster said. “I don’t know what I said all that...”

“And then you said ‘your friends’” Sans continued, cutting Gaster off entirely. “As if we have any? I mean just...what’s going on with you?”

Gaster sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t know why I said any of that stuff.”

“You even talked about Pap like you could see the future or something.” Sans informed him. He nodded, he had heard himself just  _ fine _ . “Like, you  _ can’t _ see the future, right? Whatever this thing is, it’s not  _ that _ , right?”

Frankly, Gaster just...didn’t know. He didn’t know what the episodes were, he didn’t know why his other self was trying to build a power station, he didn’t know why the blue attack had caused him to ramble like that. He didn’t even know why he could  _ use _ the blue attack, why any of them could, although a few moments ago it seemed so  _ obvious _ that they could. Like it was common knowledge. Like he had always known. 

“I doubt it’s future vision.” Gaster said, looking down at his little brother. “I’m probably just crazy or something.”

Sans shook his head. “You’re not crazy.” 

Well they didn’t exactly had much to compare to, but Gaster didn’t tell him that. That was unnecessary and cruel, especially when Sans was just trying to help.

“You think?” Gaster said instead, smiling slightly. Sans smiled back, nodding. 

“I just...” Sans began. “I  _ wish _ you could see the future. Having friends sounds nice.”

Gaster hummed to himself. That would be nice, wouldn’t it? But he couldn’t help but wonder: what was the context? Did them having friends mean them meeting more experiments? Were some of the assistants going to become friends as they grew up? 

Did he dare hope it meant they’d eventually escape?

“Do you remember when we had those books?” Sans asked. Gaster nodded, thinking back on it. After he had been taught to read, the scientist had left him with a small pile of books, all meant to teach him enough about the world to be functional in a normal conversation. None of them were good for a story, but Gaster had read them each a dozen times. When Sans was made, he taught Sans how to read by reading those books to him. And when Papyrus was made, they both took turns reading to him. When Papyrus was about three, the books got taken away. They hadn’t been given an explanation, but none of them had really expected one. 

“Yeah. Why?” Gaster asked, turning to his brother. 

“Well, I just...” Sans paused. “I remembered reading that monsters pass down their attacks, from parent to child. Does that make...?”

“No.” Gaster said, his voice curt. “Not in the least bit. That...thing out there might have  _ made _ us, but he’s not related to us. At all.” 

“But...we’re  _ brothers _ and...”

“Do you remember when we started calling each other that?” Gaster looked at his brother, dead on, but Sans couldn’t meet his gaze. “I do. It was Papyrus who said it first. He said that we  _ had _ to be brothers, like it was a fact. And he’s right, we  _ are _ brothers. But the scientist isn’t related to us. No matter what those books say, we  _ choose _ our family. OK?” 

Sans smiled at him, looking a bit more relieved.

“As for the attacks,” Gaster said. “I’m pretty certain he made the attack in the lab, like our other attacks. I mean, he can’t shift.” 

Sans smiled at him for real, his relief flooding his features. “Yeah, that must be it.” He decided.

Sans feeling relieved made Gaster feel a bit more relieved too. He believed every word he said, but it was important to say them  _ aloud _ sometimes. All the three of them had was each other, and sometimes that really dragged on them. 

The two sat there for several more moments. Time moved slowly when there was nothing to do, and Gaster was hyper aware of the fact that what had felt like hours was probably only twenty minutes or so. He was also hyper aware of the lack of Papyrus, who usually filled these hours with babble and made up games. Without Papyrus, the wait was slowly eating at Gaster.

He decided he needed to do something.

“Well.” Gaster said, standing up. Sans looked at him, surprised. “If I never  _ do _ practice my blue attack, then now might be a good time to start.”

Maybe the blue attack had spurred on that random babbling, but frankly it was too interesting to leave alone. Besides, if Gaster  _ did _ start babbling again, he might get a better insight to his condition. 

Hell, maybe he  _ could _ see the future. Wouldn’t that be something?

Sans eyes widened. “What about the scientist...?”

Gaster shook his head. “Don’t care. Besides, we’re probably  _ supposed _ to be able to do this. I mean, how many hours did he drill us on those bone attacks? How long did he drill me on the Model One attacks? If anything, him catching me using this would probably just mean he’ll drill us on it too.”

Sans furrowed his brow and shrunk his head down slightly. “Ew.”

Gaster shrugged. “If it means learning it, I’m fine with it.” 

He stood next to Papyrus’s cot. There wasn’t much room, but he could work with what he had. He stook out his hands, aiming at the pillow again. 

Now that he was trying to get the feel of the attack, it took him much longer. He focused internally, calling on his magic slowly. He got the feel of blue, trying to mold it to how he wanted. He told the pillow that gravity was now focused on him, but then fiddled with the effect. With intense effort, he was able to make it so that the pillow flew at him, but much slower than before. He was even able to catch it, hugging it in his arms as he began to readjust the attack.

Sans watched him as he sent the pillow to his cot and back to himself, over and over. He finally stood himself, taking a couple of half steps to Papyrus’s cot before flopping on it. He picked up Papyrus’s pillow and stared at it.

Gaster paused, just long enough to see if Sans needed help. The kid had always been the best at magic out of the group of them, he had never had any trouble figuring out the bone attacks. Gaster hadn’t been the best at the Model One attack drills, but while Sans didn’t have that attack type he had been a big help in coaching Gaster on it.

Magic just seemed to...make sense to Sans. The blue attack was no different. Having watched Gaster do it numerous times, Sans was soon able to figure it out. He held the pillow in his hands for a moment before it suddenly turned blue, flying over to Gaster’s cot with ease.

Gaster watched his brother for a moment as Sans figured out how to invert the pillow’s gravity and make it come back. As he learned, his grin grew. He was astonished with himself, Gaster realized. How long had the scientist been using the blue attack to torment them? Sure, he would still be able to, but it didn’t seem nearly as scary when the three of them could also do it. 

The two brother messed with the attack for a shockingly long time. When they heard the familiar vibration of the scientist scanning his hand on the door, they both instantly dropped their pillows.

The door clicked open, and Papyrus was shoved back into the room. He looked awful. His sweater was off, tied to his waist, and under it was just the scrubs shirt, which was torn slightly along the side. He had bandages covering his face, wrapped entirely around his eyes and blinding him. Bandages also covered his left forearm, and small cracks peaked out from under it. 

It only took one look before Gaster was suddenly filled with white hot burning  _ anger _ . He couldn’t wrap his mind around it, couldn’t focus past how  _ hurt _ his  _ little brother _ was. He wanted to kill something, preferable the scientist before him. He never wanted to hurt something so badly as he did in that moment.

Sans froze next to him, his anger also apparent. Sans had a better lid on his emotions though, he always had, so his first concern quickly became Papyrus. Sans stepped forward, shooting the scientist a look. Papyrus whimpered and began to inch his way in, so Sans stepped forward and pulled Papyrus gently towards him. Papyrus practically fell into his brother’s arms, relief clear on his face even through his bandages. 

“01.” The scientist said, startling Gaster out of his bright red fit of anger. “Any progress on those notes?” 

It was the most the scientist had spoken to them today. Gaster felt his anger rise at the thought. After everything else he still  _ wanted _ something from them?! 

Gaster was always surprised when he felt this much rage. He would’ve expected to be use to it all by now, but every single thing the scientist did just seemed to set him off again. Surely this much anger wasn’t healthy.

He had to swallow it though. He had to handle himself. 

“It’s not finished.” Gaster said, his words sharp and to the point. He realized his mistake too late.

The scientist didn’t attack, but his expression began to mirror Gaster’s own anger. “01.” He said, his voice cold.

Right. Gaster lifted his hands and signed his message instead. 

“Well then,” The scientist said. “I expect an update by tomorrow.”

As if Gaster could control the episodes. He just stared at the scientist as the door closed.

Papyrus stifled a sob, and Sans was holding onto him as if he was afraid he would die if he let go. Gaster stared at the door, his anger still dangerously close to the surface. He needed to calm down, he needed to be there for his brothers. It took several seconds of getting his composure together, but he soon felt safe enough to hug his younger brother too. Papyrus sniffled again, clearly trying to keep himself together in front of his brothers. He was shaking, shaking really  _ badly _ . 

“Do you want to lay down?” Sans asked. Sans had had the most surgeries out of the three of them, his weak stamina making him hard to operate on. He knew better than Gaster did about how these things went.

Papyrus nodded, and the two guided him back to his cot. Sans didn’t hesitate to turn Papyrus’s pillow blue, flinging it back at himself to give to Papyrus. Gaster was impressed with Sans amazing control of the attack, even though he had just learned it, but now was hardly the time to bring it up. Sans helped Papyrus lay down and get comfortable, sitting on the edge of the cot with him.

The shaking hadn’t stopped. Papyrus sniffled several times, perhaps out of pain or maybe just the trauma of it all, but nothing soaked his bandage. Perhaps he couldn’t cry. Maybe he’d never be able to cry again, not after  _ whatever _ had been done to him.

Something deep inside Gaster finally snapped. Something deep inside of him that he hadn’t realized wasn’t broken yet. 

His patience was up. 

Standing there, staring down at his very hurt younger brother, he vowed to himself right then and there that by the time Papyrus could see again, they would escape. He was going to get them out of here if it killed him. 

He began to plan. As the day passed, the situation turned over and over in Gaster’s mind. He was analyzing his environment more, he realized, trying to find a way out. He took all of his memories of the place, trying to think of the path to freedom. 

A few hours later, one of the assistance brought in food for them, stepping into the room to check on Papyrus. She unwrapped the bandages on his arms and reapplied them, but left the ones around his face alone. She used some tools to check him over, then knocked on the door to be let back out. She didn’t say anything to them, and the pattern of knocking she used was different than other check up times. No way out that way, besides the scientist could see them through the door.

Nearly the second after Gaster had finished his food he blacked out, an episode kicking in with a jerk. 

It was night when he woke up again, the lights off and the meal stuff cleared away. It took Gaster several minutes to compose himself again. He wasn’t nearly as sore as he had been that morning, but he was still slightly cramped up. He felt surprisingly collected, even though he very rarely had two episodes in a row.

What shocked him most was the site before him. It seemed like the other him was actually trying to  _ help _ him. The other him had gone against his usual routine, and had opened  _ two _ notebooks at once. The first one was the same one from that morning, but with all the equations finally solved.

The second one was a map. Not just any map, but a map of winding corridors Gaster now knew very well. It was a map to his power station, and through it was several penciled lines. Written on the lines were phrases like “fire exit” and “side road” and “obscure passage.” It took Gaster only a couple of seconds to realize a number of things.

One, the other him was trying to help. Two, it seemed very much like escape meant going through Gaster’s own power station. Three, the other him has somehow been able to just  _ know _ that. 

Gaster closed the notebook with the map and placed it at the bottom of the notebook pile, where it’d hopefully be overlooked. He leafed through the other, now finished, notebook.

The scientist would be pleased. Gaster just had to keep playing along for the time being. 

Gaster looked up at the other two cots. Sans and Papyrus had fallen asleep on Papyrus’s bed, and this episode must not have lasted as long since Papyrus was actually still asleep. Sans was in his blaster form, reminding Gaster that he had had an episode when Papyrus had been  _ hurt _ , which had probably scared the two of them greatly. 

Papyrus  _ wasn’t _ in his blaster form however, he was in his regular form. Granted, Papyrus very rarely shifted outside of testing, but Gaster was suddenly very worried that Papyrus  _ couldn’t _ . How much pain was he in, if he couldn’t shift? Would it be permanent? Gaster absentmindedly rubbed at his own cracks, a marker of his complete failure to handle whatever had been pumped into his system. 

If he was actually in pain, then maybe Papyrus wasn’t asleep, maybe he was faking it. Gaster didn’t know how to handle that thought, so he just decided to forget it. If Papyrus  _ was _ faking sleep, the last thing Gaster wanted do was call him out on it.

Besides, he hadn’t slept all that great in the past two days. He needed to sleep first, and then he’d be able to figure everything else out.

The following day the scientist came to collect the notebook. He seemed  _ very _ pleased with it, nodding at Gaster’s equations as he read them. He then took Papyrus in for a check up, but when Papyrus came back only the bandage on his arm had been removed. After that it was Sans’s turn, and Gaster could only hope that it was just for a test. He had to wait for Papyrus to be healed before they could escape already, he didn’t need Sans hurt too. 

Papyrus was abnormally quiet when Sans left, sitting on his cot like he was afraid to move. Gaster sat next to him, and he immediately leaned into him. 

“You feeling better?” Gaster asked. 

“Kind of?” Papyrus said, phrasing it like a question. “It doesn’t hurt so much, it’s just kind of...like a dull pain. It only really hurts if I try to open my eyes.”

Gaster put an arm around Papyrus, holding his brother close. “Well don’t try to open your eyes then.”

Papyrus chuckled softly, but he clearly didn’t seem in the mood. “You had another episode. Sans told me.”

Gaster nodded. “Yeah, I managed to finish a notebook. Hopefully the scientist will leave us alone for a bit.”

“Is Sans gonna be OK?” Papyrus asked suddenly. He tilted his head, as if he was going to look up at Gaster, but he wasn’t quite pointed in the right direction.

Gaster didn’t know how to answer that question. Not to say he had never been asked it before, Papyrus was always very worried every time Sans was pulled out of the room. But right now, with Papyrus’s eyes wrapped up and thoughts of escape dancing through Gaster’s head, Gaster was suddenly very uncertain about how to respond. 

“He’ll be fine.” Gaster said finally. “He can handle anything, remember? He always gets better.”

Papyrus nodded, then rubbed at his clavicle bone. “Gaster? Do you...you spoke again. Last night, I mean.”

Gaster blinked. “I did?”

“You said a couple of sciency things, I think, but then you said the ‘you can do it too’ thing again. Sans said you were looking at him again.” Papyrus explained. “Why are you...during an episode, why do you...why does that  _ happen _ ?”

Gaster sighed. He didn’t have a good answer to that. “I don’t know Papyrus, I really don’t.”

“Do you remember any of it?”

“No, I can’t remember them.” Gaster explained. “I just...black out. I’m vaguely aware that time has passed, but when I wake up I’m usually just groggy.”

“You’re scary like that.” Papyrus said, his voice getting shockingly quiet. “Your eyes light up purple, but because of the...of the cracks the light glows through your skull. You fidget a lot like that, and you write  _ really _ haphazardly.” 

Gaster didn’t know how to respond. He knew his episodes must’ve been terrifying to watch, but he didn’t have any frame of reference. He almost wished he could see a video of it, the mental image not enough for him to understand. 

“It was bad before, but now whenever he talks...” Papyrus shuddered. “I mean, you sound like you’re in  _ pain _ or something. Do they hurt?”

Gaster blinked. Hurt? The episode... _ hurt _ the other him? “No, not usually. I mean, I’m kind of sore afterwards but I don’t...I don’t  _ think _ I’m in pain during...during an episode...” 

“I hope not.” Papyrus mumbled. “The other Gaster doesn’t even  _ notice _ us sometimes, so I can’t...I can’t do anything to  _ help _ ...” 

Oh man. Here was Papyrus, who was probably in more pain than he led on, upset that he couldn’t help  _ Gaster _ . Gaster clung to his brother, hugging him tightly.

“Don’t worry about me.” Gaster told him. “I’m OK, I’m always OK. I promise. You need to focus on getting  _ better _ , because once you’re better we can do things together. Like a family.”

It was the closest he could come to talking about escape, but he hoped it would be enough to fill Papyrus with hope. When the actual time for escape came, he was going to have to just pull his brothers along for the ride. He didn’t know how much of the room was recorded or under surveillance, so he was going to have to be careful.

Papyrus seemed to take his words to heart though, which was fortunate. What was  _ also _ fortunate was that Gaster’s prayer had been answered, and Sans had come back to their room looking tired but otherwise fine. Gaster threw himself into his plans. 

As the week progressed, Gaster had an episode every single night. He only worked in the second notebook now, and he had a funny feeling he was never going to work on his power station again. That said, the second notebook was soon full of every possible detail from his memory that could help, every shard of information that would become vital to him later on.

He knew exactly how many assistants there were (four), he knew every single room in this section of the lab (baring one across from the kids’ room but he had a feeling it was just a break room of sorts), and he knew that the scientists used their badges to get past the lock on the door to the hallway.  _ Getting _ a badge would be nearly impossible, so he’d have to think of a way through the door otherwise.

Perhaps he could try to convince one of the assistants to help? A couple of them often gave the boys comfort after difficult tests, and they were easily the closest things to friends the kids had. But would that be enough to convince them to help the kids escape, or would they just tell on Gaster? 

Perhaps Sans could blast the door down in his blaster form? They  _ were _ meant to be weapons, after all. They would just need a way out of the room.

The other Gaster had thought of that too, writing down “blue attack means drills” in the margins of the notebook. If the scientist saw that all three of them could do the blue attack, then they’d have to be drilled on it. In all likelihood, they’d all be taken out of the room together to do drills. 

But Papyrus wouldn’t be able to do  _ anything _ until his eyes healed, including drills, which clashed with Gaster’s goal. He’d need to think of another way.

As the week progressed and the notebook was scribbled across, Gaster came across something repeating over and over. Something about the void, and travel. Something about a... _ shortcut _ through time and space.

He puzzled over it, but he didn’t really know what to make of it. Still, once he noticed it it began to pop up more and more. Things about the way space and time folded upon each other, creating the world they lived in. There was a running theme of other timelines as well, notes explaining how every choice made created another reality.

Every decision was explored, every chance taken. In another reality, the three of them had already escaped, or were never here to begin with. Never created, or created by a different person. Somewhere, in the thousands of realities that existed, the three of them were happy.

Gaster didn’t know what to make of those notes, so he mostly ignored them. Sure, thinking about other timelines made his head swim in a good kind of way, and sure he found he was incredibly  _ curious _ about the whole thing, but there were other things to do. He could be interested about things like that  _ later _ .

But the more he ignored the notes, the more the other him wrote about them. Clearly the other Gaster _didn’t_ care as much about escape he as he did. The week was nearly over, Papyrus’s eyes got closer and closer to healed, and Gaster was writing nonstop about timelines and the void between. 

He was slowly getting frustrated with his other self. He had been so certain that the episodes could finally  _ help _ , but it seemed more and more like the other him was just going to pick up another project. But then, suddenly, looking at an entire page full of timeline notes made him realized something. Maybe the reason his other self kept writing about them was because, somehow, they were the key to their escape. Something that wouldn’t require trying to escape their room, break through a door, and then trying to find a way out through an area none of them had so much as seen before. 

Once he realized that, all bets were off. The other him documented the void as if he had personal experience with it, talking about the way timelines merged on each other and how, in some instances, overlapped. 

Finally, the solution came to him. If exploited with magic in the right way, Gaster could use those overlaps to...well, to essentially  _ trade places _ with himself. He just needed to find a version of himself on the other side of the door, then convince  _ his  _ reality that he was actually  _ that _ Gaster.

Teleportation, essentially. If it worked.

But, the more Gaster threw himself into his work, the more worried Sans became. Gaster had all but cut himself off from his brothers; if he wasn’t  _ having _ an episode, he was reading the notes from one. The episodes lasted longer than normal, and they were happening  _ every night _ . Sans told him he was talking more and more during them, but just to mumble scientific equations. Sans and Papyrus were both worried for him, and he couldn’t say anything. Unfortunately, though, the scientist soon caught on as well.

Gaster was pulled from the room one day, the scientist asking him about the episodes. He was asked the usual questions; what did he remember about them, how long did they last, how often did he have them. Gaster answered mostly honestly, if only to keep the lies easy to remember. 

They happened every night, but he didn’t remember anything from them. Sans and Papyrus mentioned that he now mumbled stuff during them. No, he wasn’t writing anything down anymore.  

_ Maybe he doesn’t have anything else to write about? _ Gaster signed, praying to whatever might be listening that the scientist didn’t look in the notebooks.

The scientist didn’t respond, he simply wrote something down as the two walked down the hall. Gaster had a funny feeling he knew where they were going. 

The hall beyond their door was long, with many branching halls. Their bedroom door was the closest room to the door to the wing, though they used to live deeper in the lab. Further down the hall was the drill room, a room that was  _ massive _ and pretty scuffed up after all the years of practicing their magic. Across from that was the records room, then an obstacle course that Gaster had run nearly a dozen times, and  _ then _ there was a couple of labs he had never set foot in. 

Finally, there was the examination room. Gaster was  _ too _ familiar with this one.

Inside was a metal table, fitted with leather restraints. The table took up most of Gaster’s attention, since he was so familiar with it, but nothing else in the room was really safe to look at. None of the machines around the table made sense to him, and the cabinets lining the wall only reminded him of the things  _ inside _ of them.

This room  _ hurt _ . Just being in it drew on unpleasant memories. Gaster wanted to get out the second he stepped in, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t leave, no matter how much he wanted to. He forced himself on.

The scientist waved to the table, so Gaster walked over and sat on it. With any luck, the restraints wouldn’t be needed today. He felt uncomfortable sitting next to them, as if they could bite him or something.  

The scientist placed his things on the counter, putting his clipboard off to the side and opening the file he had brought with him. It was one of Gaster’s files, probably the one specifically documenting his episodes. The scientist seemed to be reviewing something before turning back to Gaster.

“Lay down.” He commanded. Gaster bit down on the sudden spike of fear and complied, carefully laying between the restraints.

_ It’s ok, you’re ok, you’re going to be fine.  _ He needed to keep calm. Losing his cool wasn’t going to help anything. He just needed to make it through this exam, then he could focus on his own work.

He began to think about his teleportation project, trying to ignore the scientist. The scientist came up beside him and shined a light into his eyes socket, the sight shocking Gaster. He made himself lie still; if he moved too much then he’d be strapped down. He didn’t want that, so he was going to make sure it wouldn’t become necessary. 

The light trailed up the crack in his right eye, his bad eye. The scientist examined the crack, writing something down after a moment. After that he took a look at the crack under Gaster’s left eye, the one that trailed down to his mouth. He took out a ruler and measured each of them, even placing the ruler  _ inside _ the cracks. Since the cracks went all the way through Gaster’s skull, he could almost feel the wood. It was  _ weird _ , and it took a lot of concentration to lay still.

“The cracks have gotten bigger.” The scientist mumbled, more to himself than to Gaster, but the information shocked him. Had they? Why? It took incredible self control to keep himself from blurting out his questions. “Presumably they will eventually expand until the skull is completely broken. Whether or not the magic will be able to sustain the skull shape remains to be seen. Perhaps the entire head will deteriorate.” 

Gaster couldn’t suppress the shiver. He hoped his magic would still keep his head together even after the cracks broke it apart. 

The scientist wrote something down on his stupid little clipboard, then looked back over at Gaster.

“The episodes began a week or so after you received the cracks, correct?” He asked. Gaster nodded. “Perhaps the advancement in the cracks are what caused the more frequent episodes. Tell me, you say you don’t remember anything during an episode?”

Gaster nodded his head again. He couldn’t do much else, signing while lying down was a pain. 

“But during an episode you’re privy to more knowledge than you actually have access to.” The scientist tapped his chin in thought. “Fascinating. Perhaps that experiment wasn’t a total failure, although these blackouts are definitely not something I was expecting.”

Gaster didn’t want to know what the scientist  _ had _ been expecting. He really didn't. He didn’t want this to be happening to him, not really. 

He realized, out of the blue, that this was going to continue. Even after the three of them escaped, Gaster was always going to have the blackouts. His skull would always have the cracks, and it seemed very likely that one day his head would just fall apart. Would he survive that? Was he just doomed? And how would the other him react to being outside the labs? Would he step up and help Gaster protect his brothers?

On some level, the other him was still just  _ him _ . He might have been really confusing, really sciency, and really obscure, but he was  _ helping  _ now. But how much help would he be on the outside? Would he be able to protect Sans and Papyrus if the need came up, or would he pretend they didn’t exist again? 

Was Gaster even safe to be around? 

The scientist moved onto the next set of exams. Every inch of Gaster was documented, and he was questioned endlessly on the notes the other him had drawn up. Those questions were easy to answer, because he really didn’t know. He didn’t know why the other him had wanted to build a power station so badly, or even how he knew how to. The scientist hummed to himself, clearly not believing Gaster, but he didn’t push it. Instead he began to hook on monitors, writing down whatever they were saying.

His soul was then examined, the process feeling  _ very _ weird. It took a lot of concentration to keep himself still, and he could feel his toes curling as the monitor vibrated against his chest. The scientist rattled off some numbers, but Gaster was too focused on his own discomfort to listen.

After a couple of hours, Gaster was told he could sit up again. He felt tired, and he was very sick of lying on the uncomfortable table. He rubbed at his face, trying to be cautious of the cracks in his skull. He couldn’t feel the difference in the cracks, but he knew better than to hope the scientist had been lying about them getting bigger.

“Right hand,” The scientist demanded, stepping up to the table again. Gaster stopped and offered it, watching as the scientist began to measure the holes.  

Were  _ those _ getting bigger too? He hoped not, he’d need his hands.

“Can you still summon Model One attacks?” The scientist asked, taking Gaster’s other hand.

Gaster nodded, unable to sign.

“Last time you were drilled on them, you said the attack hurt your hands.”

Gaster nodded again. After summoning the Model One attacks over and over, his hands had suddenly cramped up. He had been in a lot of pain, but the scientist had ordered him to run through the drill again. Then the holes had appeared. 

It had happened just a couple of days after the cracks, the scientist had been running him through the drills to see what all of him had been broken after the failed experiment. 

Frankly, it was amazing he could still do any attacks at all. 

“Presumably an effect of overexertion, have the episodes affected the holes at all?”  

Gaster shook his head.

“And what about 02? Has he been having any similar kind of episodes?” 

Gaster froze, looking up at the scientist’s face sharply. He slowly shook his head.

“Nothing?” The scientist frowned slightly. “Perhaps these blackouts are a side effect of the experiment model going  _ wrong _ rather than right. 02 might develop different symptoms. And tell me, has 03 understood your spoken language more since his surgery?”

The scientist released his hands, waiting for his response. Gaster could feel the fury in him begin to build slowly, but he forced himself to keep cool. He couldn’t afford to let his anger go here.

_ He hasn’t said if it’s gotten easier or not. _ Gaster signed.  _ I’ll ask him tonight _ .

“Hmm.” The scientist hummed, then picked up that damn clipboard and took a few more notes. “Perhaps the bandages need to come off first before he can activate it. Oh well, a theory for another day.”  
_Activate_ what _?!_ Gaster felt close to screaming. If he had lips, he imagined he’d be biting them. As it was, he was certain he would crack his teeth clenching his jaw as hard as he was. 

“And when you’re having an episode, your eyes are purple, correct?” The scientist looked into Gaster’s eyes, as if they were going to glow again because he was looking at them.

Gaster nodded. 

“The only other case of glowing eyes is 02’s occasional blue eye, correct?”

Gaster nodded again. 

“Well, if 03 isn’t permanently blind, I imagine his eyes will glow orange.” 

Something threatened to break inside Gaster. He hadn’t realized he had stood up until he felt his soul turn blue, his gravity being enhanced and making it so he couldn’t move. It took a lot of effort to stay upright.

He was vaguely aware of the scientist’s glare, but as the blue attack took hold something suddenly connected in his head.

He was impatient. He was patient. He yelled at the scientist, he stayed quiet. He was strong, he was weak, he could attack, he couldn’t. He could use magic, he couldn’t use magic, he was here, he was down the hall, he was in his room, he was  _ outside. _

_ There was a power station. A bridge. A series of stairs. A door. It was really hot, but then it was really wet. Snow filled the air, falling into the cracks in his skull. Sans and Papyrus could really run when they needed to. _

_ Someone was on fire. Or maybe, someone  _ was _ fire. It was hard to tell. _

_ There was sunlight. There were stars. There was a gently breeze blowing up and over the mountain. _

_ The barrier was very, very terrifying. _

Gaster blinked and suddenly he could  _ see _ . The room was bathed in a purple glow, but dotting throughout it were a series of small holes, all pitch black. Just like that, he found he could suddenly use the shortcuts. Like everything had suddenly just made  _ sense _ and they had just  _ opened _ .

He could escape. He was free.

Well, it seemed like there was no time like the present.

The scientist stared at him, and Gaster could see he was saying something, but he didn’t care enough to listen. He flung out a bone attack, throwing the scientist’s concentration. Gaster then threw the scientist against a wall with his own blue attack, feeling more than a little satisfied. He had other things to do, so he took a shortcut back out into the hall.

He was soon out of range of the scientist. He’d have to hurry.

He gained his footing as he continued on down the hall, jumping from one spot to the next to the next. A ten minute walk to their room was reduced to a ten second one, and within another instance he was inside.

Papyrus and Sans both jumped skyhigh. It seemed like while Gaster had been out, Papyrus’s bandages had been removed. The poor kid was staring at him in horror, but Gaster could only feel relieved. This was going to be difficult enough as is, and he realized he had actually been  _ very _ worried that the scientist wasn’t kidding when he said Papyrus might be blind forever. 

“We’re leaving, come on up.” Gaster managed. The purple glow faded slightly, and it took some concentration to keep it up. Sans was really much better at magic than he was.

Oh,  _ oh right _ . Sans could do this too. How had Gaster forgotten that? 

Sans jumped to his feet almost instantly. “Dings, wha...what the  _ hell _ ?”

“Teleportation.” Gaster said simply. “Well not really, it’s like these  _ holes _ in the universe that you cross through. Point is, I figured it out and we’re getting out of here. We’re  _ escaping _ .”

Papyrus snapped out of his shock and stood as well. He was grinning, relief and happiness etched into his face. He was  _ excited _ , Gaster realized. He couldn’t help but grin back. 

“Sans you’re going to need to give Papyrus a piggy back ride” Gaster directed. “We need to move fast, I kind of attacked the scientist on the way here.”

As if on cue, the alarm bell, something they only heard in the mornings, began to shriek. They all winced badly, but Sans and Papyrus didn’t waste time. Papyrus jumped on Sans’s cot, using it to climb onto Sans’s back. Gaster grabbed Sans’s shoulder and teleported again.

They were outside the hall door, the entrance to the wing, Sans taking several deep breaths. He seemed thrown by the whole experience, but his eye had responded well to it. It was glowing slightly blue, with the barest hints of yellow shinning as well.

Another jump, and they were in the hall beyond. None of them had seen this area before in their lives, but Gaster pulled them into a run anyways. His map of the power station was before his mind’s eyes. The other him knew where they were, all he had to do was trust him to navigate them out. 

Down the hall was a flight of stairs. Gaster teleported up as many as he could, but they needed to run up too many for comfort. The three got exercise in plethora, the constant drills and obstacle courses more than enough to keep them in good physical condition, but even they tired easily after a few dozen stairs. Presumably the scientists took the elevator, but Gaster could afford for them to get blocked in. 

Up and up, finally out in the power station proper. 

The entire area changed, going from the usual gray tiles and dark colors to bright purples and blues. The filtration system was highly calibrated, and the entire place smelled strongly of ozone. Gaster breathed deeply, wondering for a passing moment if this was what fresh air tasted like.

Then they were down several more halls. No one else seemed to be around, but the lights weren’t dimmed either. The alarm was blaring here too, so Gaster had to assume that the power station’s staff had evacuated. There would be no crowd to hide in, no one to turn to for help.

They needed to get gone.

Gaster set off down a path he knew as a fire exit. If the alarm meant evacuation then perhaps everyone would be down that way. He decided to run physically, Sans panting but managing to keep up. The needed help, and they couldn’t afford to miss anyone.

They came upon a room with a long, long bridge spanning over a gap so deep there was no floor beneath it. Gaster tried not to look down, trying to keep his head as the three began the long cross. He couldn’t help the suddenly anxiety he felt though, and his breathing got funny as he took a several steps onto the bridge.

None of them felt like running here. They took it one step at a time, inching their way over the bridge.

They should’ve run it. As they neared the end of the bridge, the door to freedom slammed down, locked shut.

An emergency protocol. The door was designed to protect against the event of overheating, to keep an explosion in the power station contained in this room. No way would they be able to blast through it, and the door locks were located in the command room. 

Gaster turned back at looked at the door to the other side, which was still open. If they moved, they could find an alternate exit somewhere. There were multiple ways through the station, and he knew them all. He could probably teleport past this blast door as it was, but...

But...

Well the scientist wasn’t going to  _ stop _ was he? No matter how quick Gaster was, no matter how much they moved, no matter how far away they _ got _ , the scientist was always going to be  _ right _ behind them. There was no such thing as safety in a world with  _ him _ in it.

And really, was there any safety for his brothers if  _ he _ was a danger to them? He needed to do something, some final act of revenge. Some final plan of action.

“Sans,” He said sharply, looking back at his brother. Sans’s left eye was fully glowing now, the blue and yellow colors dancing together. “I was right all along, you  _ can _ do it to.”

“Dings?” He asked, looking terrified.

“You can use the shortcuts too.” Gaster said. How to explain the week's worth of notes in a few minutes? “Probabilities overlap, you got to focus on the you that’s _ not here _ and then you have to  _ jump _ , OK?”

Sans stared at him, wide eye. 

“You  _ can _ do this.” Gaster said, reaching out and holding onto his brother’s shoulders. Man, he was so tired. When did that happen? “You need to take Papyrus and go, get as far gone as you can. As far away from  _ here _ as possible, OK?”

Sans shook his head. “You’re coming too, right?” Sans asked, tears spilling into his eyes. “I can’t...I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“I need to slow the scientists down.” Gaster explained, keeping his voice even. “I need to make sure they don't catch up to us.”

“Gaster!” Papyrus whinned, looking horrified. “No, you have to come  _ too _ . We have to be a family.”

Gaster managed a small smile. “I’ll come along after you guys. I’ll catch up, I promise. It’s not like the scientist can keep me in one room anymore.” 

The lie tasted bitter on his tongue. 

“You two need to  _ leave _ though.” Gaster said, giving Sans a small shake. “You’re so much better at magic than I am, you can  _ do this _ .”

Sans sniffled loudly, but then nodded. “I...yeah, I think I can. You’re  _ coming _ , right?”

“As soon as possible.”

Sans nodded again, but Papyrus was crying. Gaster couldn’t stand that, couldn’t stand how much he was hurting them. He tried to remind himself it was for the best, then quickly engulfed his brothers in a hug.

He was never going to see them again.

“Beyond this door is another flight of stair, it leads to the fire exit.” Gaster rambled off quickly. “People will probably be gathered there, with the alarm going off. Teleport past them. Leave no trace you were there, and just keep going. Don’t slow down outside, don’t pause for anything. Keep going until you can’t anymore, and then find somewhere  _ safe _ .”

“Safe...where is...” Sans began, but he didn’t seem capable of finishing that thought.

“You’ll know.” Gaster said, and he didn’t doubt it. “You’ll know when you’re safe. Now you need to leave. Go!” 

Sans nodded, Papyrus was sobbing, and then, suddenly, they weren’t there anymore. They were gone, and they weren’t coming back.

Gaster stood up straight, his tears running hot streaks down his face. He had to take a couple of minutes to breathe, to wipe his face. He couldn’t let the tears show, he had to be brave.

He was  _ so furious _ . Everything the scientist had ever done, every failed experiment, every  _ successful _ one. Everything that had ever hurt, or changed them, or made them  _ abnormal _ . Everything. He was so,  _ so mad _ .

He let his anger fester inside of him, and his magic responded in kind. The purple glow faded entirely, and he was left alone inside his head. He was probably never going to hear the other him again either, but he was much more OK with that. 

He was so, so tired. He was tired of running, tired of putting up a fight, tired of being patient, tired of living in this world. He let his anger take control.

It didn’t take long for the scientist and his assistance to enter the room. They all stood on the bridge, the door behind them, all pausing when they saw him there. The scientist reached out, planning on turning Gaster blue.

He was out of range. Gaster didn’t need to be  _ in _ range for his attack, though.

The Model One attacks were the first attempt at the shifting experiment. They were only the skulls, the shape almost like a dragon. The jaws of each one could unhinge and release a blast that was second only to the ones Sans and Papyrus could form in their blaster form.

Gaster summoned his attacks, realizing that he had been wrong in this regard as well. Sans and Papyrus  _ could _ use Model One attacks, they had just never tried before. 

One day Papyrus would fondly call them “Gaster’s Blasters” a tribute to the brother he would hardly remember. Gaster’s lazy brother would then shorten the name. 

He fired all five of them at once, aimed not at the scientist. 

It was a bit like cracking an egg. One sharp hit in the middle of the bridge blew out the support there. Without it, the other supports were quick to give way as well, all imploding almost simultaneously. The bridge cracked, swayed, and then fell.

Gaster was falling, falling and falling and falling. 

He was always falling, wasn’t he? He always built this damn power station, this damn Core, and then he always fell. It was a constant, something seen across the whole of the timelines. Somewhere in time and space he was always falling. At least this time he was able to drag his tormentors with him.

As he fell the world grew darker. He couldn’t see the power station anymore, couldn’t see  _ anything _ anymore. He was only aware of the feeling of falling, falling and falling, no matter how much his eyes strained to see in the dark. And as he looked, the world grew even  _ darker _ . 

Darker yet darker. He laughed hysterically, sadistically, the noise filling the void.

He was going to miss Sans and Papyrus. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time continues forward, despite your best efforts. It’s normal to grieve, but it’s just as normal to continue on anyways. Happiness doesn’t have to come with a price, never feel guilty for the good things that come after the bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man you would not BELIEVE how much this chapter didn't want to get written. Hot DAMN son. But!!! It happened!!! I did the thing!!! ~confetti~  
> That said, this looks like it might be the end of the road for this thing. I didn't have much planned after the Gaster chapter, and frankly looking back I probably should've just lobbed the necessary parts of this chapter onto the last one (ah but I'm a sucker for a dramatic chapter ending)   
> SO! This is the last official chapter, however there is going to be an epilogue/bonus short kind of thing following this. Now I should probably go get my own AU slash original fan fiction ideas lololol.  
> ALSO! Huge thanks to literally everyone rn! Like 200+ kudos on ao3 and all the likes and stuff on tumblr is def MUCH more than I was expecting, and all the super kind comments and things are huge for me~ Like I want to hug all of you <333 This has definitely been a grand time, and I’m super glad that this little thing got such a good response <33333

The story Sans had to tell was long, complicated, and full of things that threaten to give Grillby a heart attack just thinking about. The more of the story Grillby heard, the more he realized how little he knew his kids. 

W.D. Gaster, the oldest of the three odd little children, had originally be called G. Aster, according to Sans, and that was the name etched into his barcode. When Sans was made, Sans took to calling him Gaster and the name stuck. None of them knew what the G had originally stood for, though Sans said they had had some guesses.

A month or so before their escape, Gaster went through a really bad experiment. It left him with cracks in his skull, and when he had woken up from it he started talking in an odd language. The scientist tried to get Gaster to write things down instead, but Gaster ended up writing in symbols rather than words. Those symbols were called Wingdings, and presumably they were what Gaster spoke in as well. He was then called “W.D. Gaster,” though Sans lovingly called him Dings from time to time.

The experiment also left holes in his hands, and for nearly a week after the experiment Gaster had been in pain. Despite that, this child was made to learn sign language, so he could communicate with the scientist. Sans mentioned, softly and with careful wording, that during that week following the experiment he had been worried that Gaster might have outlived his usefulness. Grillby could feel his breathing stop hearing Sans talk about how worried he was of the scientist killing his brother, as if the threat had always been present.

But then the... “episodes” started. Hearing Sans describe them was heartbreaking. Grillby couldn’t imagine seeing a brother go through something like that, to be seized by something inside his head, unable to even  _ notice _ his brothers. 

But, as it turned out, the episodes ended up being a good thing.

“The... _ other Gaster _ , as we called him, he knew things we didn’t.” Sans explained. The group had all settled on the couch, Papyrus sitting on Sans’s lap. Both of them looked worn, and Papyrus hadn’t let go of Sans’s arm, but Sans had kept going with his story. Perhaps he couldn’t stop, now that he had started. “He knew a lot of sciency things, and he wrote all these notes. The scientist was  _ really _ interested in them, so we ended up getting this stack of notebooks for Gaster. I guess his notes ended up allowing the scientist to build this power station, because we had to run through it to escape but Gaster just  _ knew _ where to go.

“And...and the other Gaster also knew a lot about  _ us _ as well. He knew that we could do things that  _ we _ hadn’t even known. I guess Gaster, the  _ real  _ Gaster, realized this, because for nearly a week there he had an episode every night. He was planning our escape, using the other Gaster’s knowledge.”

Apparently they escaped right after the Core had its latest upgrade, which matched up with the reports from the Dogi. The notebooks the other Gaster had used to make the Core had been found as well, and while none of the Royal Guard had been able to  _ read them _ , it had been pretty obvious that they were the blueprints. No one had thought to suggest that maybe the Royal Scientist  _ hadn’t _ designed the Core, that he had just built it.

Gaster had been an incredible child, it seemed. And the story only got odder, showing even more of Gaster’s resourcefulness. The three of them had made it out because Gaster had somehow figured out how to  _ teleport _ . Sans even demonstrated the talent, gingerly setting Papyrus on the couch and disappearing in front of them. He reappeared after only a few seconds, saying that doing it too much left him tired. 

“He just kind of... _ appeared  _ in our room.” Sans explained. “He said we needed to leave, because he had attacked the scientist. He told me to carry Papyrus and then we  _ ran _ , with him teleporting us as much as possible.”

They had run all the way up to the Core, but the scientist had rung some kind of fire alarm and the staff had been evacuated. When the group had gotten to that fatal bridge, the blast doors had been shut and locked.

Grillby found he was shaking, struggling hard to keep himself calm for the boys. He had a funny feeling he knew what was coming next.

Sans was struggling as well, sniffling more and more frequently as his tale continued. “I...I think Gaster was going to try to find a different way out at first. He looked back at the way we’d come, but then he just kind of...stopped, you know? He told me then that I could...I could teleport too, and he told me I needed to take Papyrus and go so he could slow down the scientist.”

Sans couldn’t help it now, the tears started sliding soundlessly down his face. Grillby gently put an arm around him, and he leaned into him easily. 

“He... _ promised _ he was going to catch up.” Sans mumbled. “He even joked about it, saying something like ‘it’s not like the scientist can keep me in a room anymore.’ I was...I was  _ so sure  _ that he would just...turn up, you know? That we’d hear rumors of another skeleton child and Paps and I could just go ‘oh,  _ there’s _ Gaster, it took him long enough’...” 

Sans couldn’t finish his thought. Even Papyrus was crying, the two making barely any noise as they sobbed. The quiet of it all ate at Grillby the most, how the two seemed to feel that their tears couldn’t be loud, that they needed to keep silent. The action told a story in its own right, one Grillby wished he could have somehow prevented. 

“I mean, he...he  _ could still _ ...” Papyrus began, sniffling. Sans couldn’t look at him. “He...he  _ promised _ .”

Neither of them could continue. The room got very silent, the two holding onto each other. Grillby asked the Dogi to go home, Dogamy letting him know that they’d bring by a copy of the report by the end of the week.

The case was closed.

 

~~~~

 

Grillby woke up one morning, a week after the full story came out, to the sound of gentle snoring. He was lying nearly sideways on his bed, Papyrus curled up at his side in his blaster form. Equally shockingly, Sans was in his regular form, lying half across the pillows and half on Grillby. It was highly likely that the only reason Sans was comfortable like that was because he was a skeleton and couldn’t feel heat, but Grillby felt his fire cool slightly anyways. 

He was pinned in bed in the most comfortable way, but he couldn’t fall back asleep. He laid there, just... _ feeling _ the presence of his two kids.

_ His _ kids, officially. He was now their legal foster parent, though he was more than willing to fully adopt them both. He just didn’t want to do it without talking it through with Sans and Papyrus first, but as the days past it just... _ felt _ more and more like they were a family already.

It had been a very rough couple of days for the boys. Papyrus was still holding onto the hope that his older brother might still just turn up, as there really was no way of knowing if he did actually  _ die _ in the Core, but Sans had accepted that his brother was gone. That didn’t make the period of grief any easier, and it seemed like both of their nightmares had come flooding in with the news. Sans and Papyrus slept with Grillby more often than not these days, and on more than one occasion had one of them had woken up screaming.

Grillby couldn’t imagine the horrors they had gone through. He could only be there for them.

He twisted his body in slow and gentle movements, wrapping an arm around Sans. He couldn’t quite reach Papyrus, but he was very conscious of him at his side. 

How long ago had it been since he had walked into his bar to find Sans laying there, Papyrus standing over him protectively? The logical answer was little more than a week ago, but it  _ felt _ so much longer. So much had happened since then, so much that Grillby was still trying to wrap his mind around.

None of the things Sans and Papyrus had faced were ever going to go away. Not really, not completely. After everything that had happened to the two of them, they were never going to be completely free of their past. On some occasions, that thought was enough to convince Grillby that he really  _ didn’t _ know what he was doing here. He had no experience with PTSD himself, and researching it left him shaking in worry. But other times, like this morning, he felt a calming hope bloom in his heart. 

It wouldn’t go away, no, but with time Sans and Papyrus would be able to move past it. Grillby would be there for them, and he would be able to find them any kind of help they might need.

Things would get better, he’d make sure of it.

As he laid there, he felt sleep slowly inch back into his consciousness. He was dozing when Papyrus finally stirred, and he only vaguely was aware of the kid shifting back into his regular form to sit up. 

Papyrus moving around woke him up fully, and he instantly shot Grillby a guilty look once he noticed.

“Sorry,” He said in a tone of voice that was probably supposed to be a whisper. “I didn’t mean to wake you, I was just going back to my room.”

“Nah, I was awake anyways.” Grillby insisted, though his groggy voice didn’t help his argument. “I don’t think I’m getting up anytime soon, though.” 

Papyrus giggled softly. He gently pat Grillby on the head, then crawled out of bed. He was out of the room for only a couple of minutes before returning with his sketchbook.

“Want me to get you anything?” He asked, looking at Grillby.

“My book, if you please.” Grillby asked, gesturing to his bedside table as best as he could without being able to see it. Papyrus found it easily though, and soon the book was in hand. 

Trying to read while laying on his back was a bit annoying, but it was nice to just sit there quietly. Papyrus curled up at the foot of the bed, sketching peacefully. It was calming, and the book soon ate at Grillby’s attention. He wasn’t aware when three hours slinked past, but at some point Papyrus had finished the sketch and had gone off to his room to play around with his toys. 

Eventually, Sans did wake up. He seemed a bit embarrassed that he had fallen asleep on top of Grillby, but Grillby just pulled him into a hug, saying something about how he didn’t mind the physical contact. Sans made a snorting noise,  the two eventually managing to roll off the bed, both groggy and only about half focused.

Sans, to his credit, didn’t immediately freak out when he couldn’t find Papyrus. Grillby could see the exact moment he realized Papyrus wasn’t in the room though, loud in his suddenly stiff poster and in the look he made, but after a couple of moments he managed to slowly relax. It seemed like he had to consciously work his thoughts around the habitable panic, but he was noticeably getting better at allowing Papyrus to wander further away. He even managed to focus back on the topic of what to make for breakfast, so Grillby didn’t bother mentioning the long pause in conversation.

Breakfast for that morning turned out to be pancakes cooked by Papyrus, who had them ready by the time Sans and Grillby managed to stumble downstairs. They weren’t half bad, only marginally burnt along the edges, and Grillby found he was extremely hungry. Sans had probably had much worse, so the two made Papyrus’s day by digging in with a gusto.

The week had been a full one of learning for the boys, but also for Grillby. Papyrus actually liked cleaning, shockingly enough, and he seemed to be very obsessive on how things were organized. Sans, on the other hand, would’ve let their shared room turn into a garbage dump just because he could, which annoyed Papyrus to no end. This wasn’t the only thing they were opposite in; for instance, Sans loved reading, and it didn’t seem to matter  _ what _ , whereas Papyrus seemed to have a problem with it. Grillby suspected he might be dyslexic, but perhaps it was just that he had no interest in it. 

But as much as the two were opposites, they were also very similar. They both had a habit of disregarding their safety to get things done, such as the time Sans had climbed the cupboard in order to get a roll of paper towels and the fact that Papyrus was constantly trying to cook the family meals while being only barely tall enough to reach the stove. Neither knew how to react when Grillby got upset about that sort of thing, so he tried to patiently talk them through it rather than allow his panic to show. That morning, for example, he agreed with Papyrus that the pancakes  _ were _ very good, but that he shouldn’t try cooking without Grillby there.

Papyrus looked a little bummed out, realizing he had done something wrong. He apologized even, but Grillby could see the lack of understanding on his features. The two were both so used to using whatever means necessary to accomplish a task that they couldn’t seem to get their thoughts around the idea that they needed to be careful with certain things.

It was a learning curve, for certain. For everyone.

Papyrus volunteered to do the dishes, but Grillby told him to go play instead. It was a bit of a hassle, trying to use water when he was made of fire, but Papyrus had done the dishes several times that week already. The two ended up playing around in the living room while Grillby got started on the chores.

Sans and Papyrus really weren’t the correct ages to play with each other. The two had very different interests, and while they both loved each other a lot, they weren’t really in the position to be friends as well. Grillby had asked both of them to try playing outside multiple times, to see if they could make friends with the other kids of Snowdin, but neither of them seemed all that interested.

In the end, the two often just shifted into their blaster forms and wrestled. It was a compromise between them, a way for them to both enjoy themselves. 

Their shyness only had Grillby mildly concerned, it was expected after everything the two had gone through. They were still both looking over their shoulder, waiting for the attack that wasn’t going to come. Only time would help with that. 

Grillby managed to finish the dishes without any injuries, only some minor annoyances from when the water splashed unpredictably. He discarded the rubber gloves and checked on the boys in the living room.

Sans had fallen asleep, curled against the couch, while Papyrus was busy tearing apart a chew toy. Grillby smiled at them, watching Papyrus run laps around the room. He decided to cross the room and sit on the couch, carefully dodging the sleeping Sans. Papyrus barked happily at him, his tail wagging, before going after the toy again.

Grillby was content to just sit and watch Papyrus as he ran around. He started to mentally go through his checklist for the day, keeping everything even in his mind. He only got about halfway through it when there was a soft knock on the door.

Papyrus stopped, dropping the toy instantly. He wasn’t growling, or even all that defensive, he was just suddenly very alert. He crept a bit closer to Sans, or perhaps closer to Grillby, a soft whine building in his throat.

Grillby tried to make a soothing gesture as he stood. Papyrus, thankfully, didn’t seem all too  _ worried _ , it was more so like he was just relying on habitual behavior. Grillby walked to the door, the window in it revealing that Doggo was the one visiting.

He opened the door with a smile before he caught a look at what Doggo was carrying. The small packet of files looked ominous, but perhaps that was just because he knew what they contained. Grillby forced his smile back on his face as he held the door open for his friend.

Papyrus wagged his tail at Doggo, but didn’t shift back. Now that he knew who it was, he seemed much more comfortable. He chased down his toy and went right back to tearing it to shreds. Sans hadn’t even moved, snoring gently.

Grillby directed Doggo to the kitchen, where he was less likely to get headbutted by an over energized pup. Doggo gingerly sat the small pile of files on the table.

“It’s all there.” He explained. “Well, copies of them, but I’m certain you understand.”

“Are these  _ all _ of the files from the lab?” Grillby asked, mindful of his flame around the paper.

Doggo snorted. “No, these are just the files Sans asked for.”

If he had the ability to, Grillby probably would’ve gone pale. He suddenly felt very uneasy, the ever present worry over his two charges surfacing again. He decided not to think about the bulk of the files, instead he focused on the thought of Sans  _ looking through _ the files. He still couldn’t imagine him being able to get through them, certainly they would only bring up bad memories, but he wasn’t going to stop him. Sans was determined to read the files, so Grillby wasn’t in any real position to deny him the right to them. All he could hope to do was convince Sans to wait a few years before he finally opened them. 

Doggo couldn’t stick around, but he paused to play with Papyrus a bit, though that was probably because Papyrus had run right into his legs. Papyrus seemed a bit disappointed when he had to leave, but Doggo promised to come by and visit again. 

The noise seemed to woken Sans up finally, and Grillby paused to explain what Doggo had been doing over. Sans shifted back into his regular form instantly, asking to see the files.

“Are you sure?” Grillby asked, concerned. “You don’t have to look at them if you don’t want to. I’m worried they might only bring up bad memories for you.” 

Sans shook his head. “I...I feel like I  _ have _ to, though. I need to know what happened to Gaster, to see if it’s going to happen to Papyrus or me.” 

Grillby felt he understood. It had to be terrifying for Sans to not know everything he could do. Even as a child, Grillby had always had 100% control over his magic. He knew everything about his flame, and he was always aware of how hot he burned. For Sans and Papyrus to not know everything they could do, to live in a constant state of uncertainty, was something Grillby couldn’t imagine. He understood, but he was still apprehensive about Sans reading the files.

“Would you want me to read through them with you?” He asked, trying to offer any bit of comfort he could. 

Sans looked at him like the thought had never occurred to him. To be frank, it probably hadn’t. He opened his mouth, then closed it, then furrowed his brow in thought. 

“I...” Sans began, thinking hard. “I don’t know? I mean, you can if you want to.” 

Grillby decided that that was a good answer. They decided to start on the files another day, Grillby reminding Sans that they had other things to do. Now that Sans was awake, the small trio decided to fix up the boys’ room.

When Sans and Papyrus first moved in, the Royal Guard and Madeline had come over to help put together basic necessities for them. Things like getting the beds and dresser together, and getting clothes together. It had been a pretty rushed job, all things considering this was hardly surprising, so the room was still only about half there.

In the week that had followed their moving in, Papyrus had single handedly organized the room to the way it was now. Grillby suppose that the poor kid was probably bored to death more often than not, seeing as he only needed a few hours of sleep most nights, but it was still a pretty impressive feat for the near six-year-old. 

Papyrus’s bed was across the room from Sans’s, the desk and dresser pushed to the wall across from the door. The closest was at the foot of Papyrus’s bed, and soon the toy box would be next to it. Across the room would be the bookshelf, where there was more room. With the way everything was planned out, there should be a ton of room left over in the middle, so that the two would have free space to play around it.

It still felt like it was going to be a bit cramped. Grillby began to wonder if he should plan to add a room to the house, so there’d be one for each of them. He’d have to bring it up with two later, though currently it seemed very unlikely that they’d like the idea of being separated. Still, they were eventually going to outgrow the spare room if they kept sharing it.

But that was something to think about in the future. For now, Grillby set to putting together the toy box and the book shelf.

Both were handmedowns from the bunny family, but quite a lot of the furniture in the room had been. Madeline had been a huge help in setting up the room originally, and in helping Grillby find things the boys might need. The book shelf had been her idea, after they all saw how much Sans’s loved reading. 

Supposedly, the shelf and toy box came apart and could be put back together with ease. You know, supposedly. In actuality, it ended up taking the trio several hours and quite a lot of giggling before either task could be even marginally accomplished. But they  _ did _ eventually get them put together. Sans went to work putting the books away and Papyrus organized the toy chest so one half was regular toys and the other half was dog ones. 

Eventually, with about half of their Sunday gone, they all decided to call it quits and start on lunch. Papyrus and Grillby made grilled cheese and tomato soup, both of which were new foods for the boys. Both were big fans, and Papyrus had been awe struck when Grillby showed him he could dunk the sandwich in the soup (Grillby himself, being made of fire, didn’t much care for soup). 

After lunch they had another big step to take. Grillby had Madeline come over for the two’s check up, the first time either had been visited by a doctor since the two had broken into the bar. Grillby had told them in advance, but everyone was a bundle of nerves when there was a gentle knock on the door.

Madeline was a doll, though. She had brought her little sister Ellie, who hit it off with Papyrus instantly. Ellie was another bunny girl, also with blue fur and wearing a darker blue dress. She was a very soft spoken girl, but she was also very sweet. Ellie was a big help in keeping the boys calm during the exam; the presence of another kid helped the boys in ways Grillby couldn't.

Madeline decided to exam the boys one at a time, asking Papyrus and Ellie to sit on the couch while she looked over Sans. Sans seemed nervous about the whole thing, but with gentle words from Grillby he managed to take off his sweater and allowed Madeline a chance to look him over.

Madeline started off with simple things, running a pair of green healing hands over Sans’s ribs to check his health over. She declared he was completely sick free, which made him smile. She went on to examine his condition further, assess what sort of damage he had taken from his time in the labs. It had been something she had wanted to check over since she first saw the two of them, having noticed scars on Sans from her first look over him. Only now had Grillby had her schedules aligned enough to get such an examination done, but she promised she could get them medication to help with the scars. 

She began to take out her tools, her scanners and her stethoscope, and her other such things that Grillby only vaguely knew or understood. She went slowly, showing Sans what she was doing with each instrument beforehand, but the poor kid began to shake despite himself. 

As the examination continued, she pulled out a small device designed to examine an individual’s soul. Sans froze up instantly, stating forcefully that he wasn’t going to go near it. To Grillby, it seemed like that might mean the end of the visit entirely, but then, surprisingly, Ellie slipped off the couch.

“Here Sans,” She said, gently patting his arm. “It’s not so bad. See, I’ll go first.” 

She stepped up to her older sister, who smiled pleasantly and carefully hooked her to the scanner. A small band went across the child’s chest, tucked under her arms, gently pressing the scanner to her sternum.

Ellie smiled, her arms stuck straight out. “Look at me, I’m an airplane!” She said to Sans, making a farting noise. Sans chuckled, but watched with a nervous eye.

Another band went around Ellie’s arm, and then the machine was turned on. Madeline held it up to Sans so he could watch as it read Ellie’s magic.

“It kind of vibrates weird.” She told him. “It tickles a bit!”

Sans still looked very worried, but much less anxious. It seemed more like the kind of nervousness you might get from riding in an elevator, or standing from a high place, than the kind you would get before doing something extremely dangerous. When Ellie was finished, he didn’t protest to having it done as well, but he was still noticeably shaking.  

Ellie offered to hold his hand during it, which he agreed to. She looked like she kind of regretted that decision when the machine was turned on, but even though Sans had to be squeezing her hand to death she kept smiling at him. Grillby admired her greatly, reminding himself to thank her when the exam was over. 

After Sans was Papyrus, who confidently slid off the couch while Sans sat down eagerly. It seemed like he had tried to psych himself beforehand, having seen all the exams Madeline wanted to do. He still froze up from time to time, but a kind word from Madeline, Grillby, or even Ellie was enough to help him through it. He held perfectly still during the soul examination, trembling slightly, but he managed to keep calm. Madeline then surprised the boys with some candy, and Grillby asked them if they wanted to go play with Ellie in their room.

Both the boys and Ellie loved that idea. Soon the room was kid free, and Madeline and Grillby were alone.

“You’re sister is amazing.” Grillby commented, feeling very relieved that everything had gone so smoothly.

“She’s done this for me before.” Madeline explained, smiling with pride for her sibling. “When I was first starting out I had a toddler patient who was really fussy. She offered to come with me and play with him so he’d calm down. I figured she could work her magic here too.”

“She’s very good at it.” Grillby smiled up at the bedroom door. His smile dropped after a moment.

“How...how bad are they?” He asked finally.

Madeline lost her smile as well. She sighed, running a hand through her fur.

“Not to sound morbid, but I was kind of...expecting worse?” She said softly. “After hearing about the...lab thing, I...well I don’t know what I was expecting really. I guess I just was expecting something truly awful, but I don’t know.

“Sans, like he said, can’t muster up a good attack or defense magic wise. I doubt he’ll ever be able to, but that’s not really a problem  _ per se _ , he’ll just have to find a way to work around it.” She checked her notebook while talking, going over points she had written down. “Papyrus’s magic is much more normal, so there’s no worries there. You mentioned over the phone that Sans can teleport?”

Grillby nodded. 

“His magic is kind of...all over the place?” Madeline said, her brow furrowing. “It’s like it can’t settle, and I have a feeling the teleportation is the reason behind that. It’s not necessarily a _ bad _ thing, but his magic is probably always going to be a bit random. I recommend he train with someone on it, and to make sure he keeps up training. Having an outlet for all that energy is important. 

“That said, Papyrus’s magic is much more normal, he’s very stable. I take it he can’t teleport as well?”

Grillby frowned. “Well, I can’t say for sure he can’t, but neither have mentioned him being able to.” 

“I would wager a guess that he can’t.” Madeline sighed. “Grillby, I’m going to level with you, I think...I think there was a sort of  _ order _ to the experiments done to the two of them. Papyrus and Sans share several similar conditions and quarks, but not all of them. I...I think Papyrus was only implemented in things the scientist would know would work.”

Grillby nodded, he had sort of had a similar thought. He remembered how Sans explained that Papyrus had been made because he tired easily and couldn’t keep up an attack or defense. It made sense, in a weird and extremely morbid way.

“The major thing you need to watch out for is Papyrus’s eyes.” Madeline said, looking back at her notebook. “He has fairly fresh markings around his eye sockets, and I’m worried that whatever was done might’ve affected his vision. I don’t have anything for an eye exam on me, and I’m not really qualified for that sort of thing, but I can recommend you to a good optometrist out in the Capital.” 

“Thank you Madeline.” Grillby said sincerely. They both looked back up to the boys rooms, the sounds of laughter warming his heart. “Why don’t I make you some coffee and we can catch up a bit? It doesn’t seem like you’re going to be able to pull Ellie away anytime soon.”

Madeline smiled. “I’d love that Grillby.” 

The two, as it turns out, had a lot to catch up with. Mostly about childcare; Madeline was quickly becoming one of Grillby’s go-to sources. She even offered to help him find good references on PTSD, and had several good recommendations for therapists in the area. By the time everyone began to get hungry, Grillby was feeling much more confident himself. Grillby made spaghetti for everyone, tucking the packet of files up on top of the fridge for safe keeping. Papyrus declared that spaghetti was his new favorite dish, which Ellie thought was pretty funny.

Eventually, though, Madeline and Ellie had to leave. Madeline promised to bring the medicine to the bar in the next couple of days, leaving the odd family to wind down a bit before bed. 

Papyrus, being Papyrus, didn’t seem to like that idea. He talked a mile a minute about Ellie, saying how happy he was to have a friend and how excited he was to see her again. Sans also agreed that she was really cool, so Grillby promised that she could come over another day. 

Papyrus rambled on about Ellie and Madeline for a little longer, but eventually Grillby and Sans managed to convince him that they needed to get to bed. Papyrus was in such high spirits he rushed straight to his own room, planning on sleeping in his own bed. Sans seemed a bit unsure, glancing up at Grillby then back at his bedroom. Finally he agreed that he should also try to sleep in his own room, though he promised that if he needed to he would come wake Grillby up.

Grillby himself got changed and went off to his own room. He was asleep for a few hours before the expected knock woke him up.

Sans was at his door, looking exhausted.

“Nightmare?” Grillby asked, his voice garbled with sleep.

Sans shook his head. “I...I can’t sleep.” He mumbled. “I um... I keep...keep think about the files.”

In his half asleep state, Grillby didn’t know what he was talking about for a minute or two. When the thoughts finally clicked, he sat up. He picked up his glasses and climbed out of bed.

“Are you certain about this?” He asked, looking down at Sans. He seemed very, very small all of a sudden.

Sans made a small, almost chuckle like noise in his throat. “No.” He admitted.

Grillby nodded. “It’ll be OK. We don’t have to read everything, or much of it even. If you feel uncomfortable, we’ll stop, OK?”

Sans nodded. He took a couple of breaths, then reached up and took Grillby’s hand. Together, the two walked downstairs and back into the kitchen.

The small packet of files were still where Grillby had left them, tucked safely on top of the fridge. He pulled up a chair next to Sans’s, putting the bundle in front of him gingerly.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Sans stared down at the brown folders, his eyes vacant. After a few minutes of gathering his nerve, he finally reached up and untied the string binding the files together.

The were four files altogether. Written across the tabs were different classifications.

NU 01: General/ Health

NU 01: Shifting EX

NU 01: Time EX - FAILED

NU 01: CORE

Sans’s breath caught in his throat. Grillby watched him carefully, rubbing small circles into his back. Sans looked up at him, smiling softly as if to say he was OK, then he turn his attention back to the files.

He didn’t seem to know where to begin. He picked up the General file first, then paused and looked at the Time EX one. He decided on that one first, placing the General one back down.

The first thing Grillby saw looking into the Time EX file was his first sight of Gaster. There was a photo clipped inside, a picture of a child who looked very similar to Sans and Papyrus.

Gaster, like Papyrus, had a elongated skull, but like Sans his jaw and skull were the same piece. In the photo, Gaster appeared to be unconscious, with terrifying cracks cutting ominously through his skull. One of his eyes looked like it was drooping slightly, and Grillby wondered if he had been able to open that eye at all. One look at Sans told Grillby that this was normal, how Sans always pictured him. Grillby felt sick, wondering how someone could cause  _ that _ much harm to a  _ child _ . 

Sans pulled out the page the photo was attached to. It was a log: the header was completely typed out, but the rest of it was handwritten by someone who had had very patient penmanship. The entire thing had a slightly pixelated look, reminding Grillby that these pages were copies of the original. 

The typed header read out: 

BLASTER SHIFTING EXPERIMENT (B.S.E.) NU 01-- G. ASTER

LOG ONE

Below the header was a barcode, which was stamped over with a red FAILED. Written next to it was a simple “Reopened due to unplanned side effects, see pages 10+” and following that was the actual log itself.

Grilly and Sans curled up against each other and began to read. 

 


	6. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New people are interesting. How many strangers are disguised as friends, and how many are enemies?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK last chapter I swear! This has been a fun and really entertaining ride, and baby blasters will ALWAYS have a place in my heart. Thanks again to everyone who liked this, who commented on this, who shared this, who actually just like read it to begin with because omg that sort of thing really makes my whole year man. Seriously you all are really awesome I can't express that enough <333

Frisk walked with a small skip in their step, whistling a tune through the gap caused by their missing front tooth. Waterfall was always so calming, even when Undyne was trying to murder them, and they felt themself relax for the first time in what felt like ages. They wondered, briefly, what they were going to see change this time. There were always changes, always small differences between the  _ this time _ and the  _ last time _ and it always made Frisk’s day whenever they found them. The small changes were really the only thing keeping them going at this point. So long as they still had something to look forward to, then they could grit their teeth and forge on ahead.

They didn’t want it to be over yet. They loved meeting everyone, so much so they were willing to sit through it all over and over and over. It was preferable to the alternative, the  _ other _ way they could stay in their cozy little timeloop. They didn’t like thinking about it, which just made the small whisper in the back of their mind churn out thoughts nonstop. Reminders of how nothing they did,  _ nothing they did _ , really mattered in the end. 

They shook themself out of that thought process. It didn’t matter if they never face consequences for their actions, they still wouldn’t  _ make _ them because  _ they _ would know. And them  _ knowing _ would be more than enough for them to feel guilty about it for the rest of their life, even if they  _ did _ reset. Even if they only hurt  _ one _ monster. 

They sighed softly. So much for the calming effect of Waterfall. 

They tried to cheer themself up. After all they were hardly even  _ in _ Waterfall, Undyne hadn’t so much as thrown so much as a single spear at them. They had nothing but time, they might as well enjoy the quiet while it lasted. 

They entered the Wishing Room, not bothering to listen to the Echo Flowers or look through the telescope. They pushed on the false panel and continued on to one of the first rooms documenting the war between monsters and humans. They didn’t bother to read that either, they just crossed over to the wooden floorboard that sailed them onwards.

They paused there and did a series of small stretches, preparing themself for the running feat they were going to have to accomplish out on the bridge before them. They felt a smile bloom across their face; sure they had done this too many times for comfort, but it never failed to be an exciting first encounter with Undyne.

They stepped out on the bridge, waiting for Undyne to reveal herself. The spear embedding itself in the wood before them made them jump, which was kind of dumb of them all things considering, and then all bets were off.

They ran, resisting the urge to laugh off their excitement. They’d done that before, and it had made Undyne  _ pissed _ . Sure, she loved them in their original timeline, but in this current point in time she  _ hated _ them. They had to remind themself of stuff like that sometimes. 

Eventually, the bridge ended. They rushed into the sea grass, freezing right where they were suppose to. Monster Kid smiled at them when they saw each other, and Frisk offered up a small smile in return. They felt kinda guilty for that, considering the poor kid was about to get their head beat on, but Monster Kid was the kind of person who made the whole world smile with them. 

Undyne came as predicted, slamming her fist into Monster Kid on accident. They smiled pleasantly up at her, and Frisk made themself small. After a pause, Undyne dropped Monster Kid and set off again, presumably to whatever alternate route she knew that allowed her to get ahead of them. 

Frisk set off through the grass, pausing to listen to Monster Kid ramble about how they were never going to wash their face again etc etc etc. They smiled up at them anyways; even if they were a time traveler of sorts, they didn’t have any excuse for being rude. Monster Kid ran off, doing a wicked face plant only a couple of feet from where they started. Like a champ, though, they picked themself up and continued running.

Poor kid. One of these days their clumsiness was going to get them hurt. And not in the falling-off-a-bridge-where-Frisk-could-swoop-in-to-save-them kind of way. Well, that was assuming time ever moved forward, which was a thought that Frisk didn’t want to entertain.

Frisk was about to set off again, ready for another cheese and mouse hole save point, when they suddenly had a thought.

At several points throughout their adventure, they found that if they turned around and headed in the opposite direction they could see Flowey following them. Usually these instances happened on accident, however sometimes they felt the instinct to try it out anyways. This was one of those times.

So, with hands shoved into their pockets in their best imitation of Sans, they turned around and headed in the opposite direction.

They followed the bends and curves in the bridge, wondering if they could make the jumps in between them. They decided they didn’t want a bath and continued on, keeping their eyes glued to the bridge before them. They didn’t even know how Flowey would be able to poke his head up through a bridge, but he had done weirder.

Because their eyes were glued downward, they almost didn’t notice when they began to run out of bridge. They looked up, planning on just turning around and continuing onwards, when something... _ gray _ caught their eyes.

Someone was  _ standing before them _ .

Frisk froze, staring at this odd monster in shock.

Sure, each timeline was different. Sure, they had been expecting something to change in this timeline. And sure, it wasn’t _ always _ surprising to find a monster standing somewhere where previously there hadn’t been a monster.  _ This _ , however, was so surprising that Frisk was actually thrown right out of their comfort zone.

The kid standing before them, and it was very clearly a  _ kid _ , looked almost  _ exactly _ like Monster Kid. They didn’t have any spikes, but the two had a very similar head shape, and they had on the same oversize and armless sweater over a pair of knee length pants. A small tail poked out from under the sweater, twitching slightly as the kid stared down into the water.

The thing that made this child so  _ astronomically  _ different to Monster Kid was...well their  _ color scheme _ . This monster was completely gray, without a speck of real color on them. It was very eye catching in the blues of Waterfall, and Frisk found they couldn’t look away.

They didn’t have an exact number for how many times they had reset. It was probably somewhere past 10, easily, maybe even close to 20. In all that time, they knew with  _ absolute certainty _ that they had never once seen a monster like this one before. 

This twist of fate made Frisk very nervous. For the first time in a long time, they felt uncertain.

They swallowed their fear, reminding themself that if anything happened they could just go back to their save point. Death got a lot less scary when you realized you didn’t qualify, after all. They began to creep up towards the monster, struggling to stay calm.

The gray kid looked up when they approached. Closer inspection showed that what Frisk had took for horns on the kid’s head was actually a bow, and they found that this Monster Kid wasn’t wearing a striped sweater, but a checkered pattern one. These differences were important to Frisk, as it was still very unnerving that someone they considered a good friend was suddenly very different and  _ wrong _ . They forcibly reminded themself that this  _ wasn’t _ Kid, because Kid was somewhere along ahead of them, waiting for Frisk to get them an umbrella. 

Frisk smiled at the gray kid, who smiled back and turned back to the water. Frisk came closer, standing next to them.

This close, Frisk was very aware of something... _ cold _ sliding down their back. They didn’t know what to make of the butterflies that were still insisting on tearing apart their stomach.

For a moment, neither of the two spoke. Not for lack of trying on Frisk’s part, but they really just couldn’t think of anything to say. Finally, the gray monster spoke up. Frisk winced badly at their voice before they could stop themself; it sounded like someone had taken their vocal chords and was somehow playing them through a broken pair of speakers.

“Have you ever thought about a world where everything is the same,” The kid said, looking over at Frisk. “Except you don’t exist?”

Frisk shivered, their eyes widening. A world where they didn’t exist?

Before they could say anything, the kid continued. “Everything functions perfectly without you...” They paused, looking away from Frisk. “Ha, ha...the thought terrifies me.”

Frisk felt very uneasy all of a sudden. They didn’t know how to respond, but they felt like they should say  _ something _ . Something to comfort this poor kid.

They couldn’t think of anything. 

For a shockingly long time, Frisk just stood next to the gray kid. They couldn’t help but think about what they had talked about, the silence allowing their thoughts to run wild.

A world where everything was the same, except they didn’t exist. Frisk didn’t have to think too hard on it, they knew what would happen. Monsters would remain underground, until one day another human would come along. Presumably, Frisk was the only one determined enough to keep reversing time the way they were, so this new human would probably die. Monsters would go to war with humanity.

Monsters would probably loose. Frisk decided to stop that line of thinking. So long as they were here, then they could run through the events that would lead Asriel to break the barrier. So long as they  _ existed _ , nothing bad would happen to their friends.

The small whisper in their mind reminded that  _ they _ could still harm their friends, but Frisk was able to tune it out.

A world where they didn’t exist wasn’t a world. It didn’t happen, so they didn’t have to worry about it. They looked back at the gray child, concern in their face. They didn’t know why this kid was talking about things like that, and they didn’t know how to help.

They decided, in the end, to just leave. 

They didn’t know to feel about the gray kid. They didn’t know why, after so many resets, that they only now got to meet them. They didn’t know how this affected anything, or how they were suppose to handle this change.

They didn’t know what to do. So, they did they only thing they  _ could _ do. They continued on. Maybe later on, or in another timeline, they’d figure out a solution.

Frisk stepped through the seagrass, carefully making sure not to crush anything. They barely paused to look over the cheese stuck in the crystal, saving their progress with a growing sense of unease. It took them a moment to work up the determination they needed to save, but eventually they felt confident enough to move on.

They tried to think ahead, tried to get the spring back in their step. In the next area, Sans would be standing around with his telescope. They could pretend to fall for his prank with it, and he’d jokingly say something about refunding them the money they didn’t pay to use the telescope. They liked Sans, even hearing his jokes a million times didn’t stop them from being funny. There was just something about him that Frisk connected with, and they loved him like a uncle. Thinking of Sans helped them to calm down a bit, and focus on ahead.

It didn't last long. Continuing on into the hall revealed that the gray kid wasn’t the only difference in this timeline.

There was a  _ door _ there, set into the wall of the hallway. 

Frisk was beginning to feel very,  _ very _ uncomfortable with all the changes. They had become so used to the same old, same old that these differences were even beginning to scare them. They started to wonder if something was seriously wrong with their timeline. 

They stared at the door, their hands shaking. It was completely gray, just like the kid had been, and it seemed to be made of wood. It was more so the kind of door you’d expect to find in a fancy mansion, not the kind of door you would expect to see in  _ Waterfall _ . In fact, Frisk was pretty certain this was the first time they’d seen a door  _ period  _ in Waterfall. The gray colors only added to their discomfort, the door on its own was easily the weirdest thing they had seen in the Underground yet.

Frisk stood before the door, wondering if they should just leave it alone. Walk away, and continue onwards. Pretend that nothing weird was happening, that everything was going exactly as intended. 

They couldn’t do it. If Frisk had a fatal flaw, it would be their curiosity. Who knows if the door would be here when they finally worked up the nerve to open it? It was now or never. 

Besides, death didn’t apply to them.  _ Nothing _ applied to them, they could always just redo everything. Nothing could hurt them, because in the end it’d be like it never happened.

They held their breath, reaching out a shaking hand. They grabbed the doorknob, shocked with how cold it was. They twisted it, the door opening with a loud  _ creak _ .

The room beyond the door was completely gray. It was very small, with a short hall leading from the door into the room proper. There was nothing special about the room itself, it was all just the same color, with absolutely no decorations or changes in the surface. There were no... _ details _ to the room, it was just a solid gray.

What made the room interesting was the person standing  _ inside _ . 

This figure also appeared to be very childlike, only they  _ weren’t _ gray. They seemed to be a skeleton, reminding Frisk instantly of Sans and Papyrus. In fact, they looked quite a lot like Papyrus, with a longer skull and skinny frame. The major difference between them and Papyrus was the age thing and the very odd cracks through the kid’s skull. Their right eye was drooped, only barely open, with a crack trailing up from it. The other crack was under their left eye, leading down to their mouth, but it didn’t seem nearly as bad as the first one. 

This kid couldn’t have been much older than Frisk themself, maybe thirteen or fourteen. They were dressed in a black sweater overtop a pair of what looked like scrub pants, like the kind a nurse or long term patient might wear, and they were barefoot. Looking over them made Frisk realize that they had holes through their hands, which they could only figure weren’t intentional.

Stepping into the room caused the kid to notice them. They starting to speak, clearly baffled by Frisk’s appearance, but Frisk couldn’t understand a word they were saying. They, like the gray not-Monster Kid, spoke as if their voice was coming through a broken set of speakers, but that wasn’t why Frisk couldn’t understand them; if anything, this skeleton child spoke with much less distortion than the gray kid. It just sounded a lot like they were talking in another language, something that was very vaguely familiar but impossible to understand.

Frisk shook their head at the skeleton child, showing their lack of understanding. They put their left fist over their chest, rubbing a small circle over their heart.

_ Sorry _ , they signed. 

The child perked up at the sight. They pointed their index fingers at each other in front of them, then rotated their arms as if they were peddling a bicycle, their arms going in opposite direction. 

_ Sign language? _ They were signing back, their brow furrowing only long enough for Frisk to understand the question mark that was meant to be at the end of their sentence. They looked happy to have a method of communication. Frisk wondered if they got many visitors, figuring they probably didn’t. After all,  _ most _ of the time this room didn’t exist. 

Frisk nodded, smiling back. They began to sign, equally pleased to know they could talk to this kid. Left palm to chest, their two index and middle fingers tapped together, then spelling.

_ My name is F-R-I-S-K. _ They smiled again.  _ What’s your’s? _

The kid smiled back, but then suddenly seemed to think better of it.  _ How are you here? _ They signed, looking very confused all of a sudden.  _ I didn’t think anyone could come here _ .

Frisk frowned, then shrugged.  _ There was a door _ .

The child looked mildly annoyed, then asked Frisk to describe the door. Frisk did so, signing about how it had been made of wood but all gray. The child looked over to the walls of the room, frowning.

Frisk cleared their throat, catching the kid’s attention. They asked for their name again.

This time it was the kid’s turn to apologize. Frisk noticed they used their right hand as they spelt out their name.

_ G-A-S-T-E-R _ , They spelled carefully.

“Gaster?” Frisk asked aloud, making sure they were pronouncing it correctly. The kid nodded, smiling. 

_ Sorry, I’m just concerned _ . He signed.  _ I didn’t think I was going to see anyone, much less the human.  _

Frisk frowned, confused. In sign language, there wasn’t a specific sign for the word  _ the _ . Usually, you just pointed to a space previously designated with what you were talking about. I.e., if you were talking about one person, you might point to the space to your right, and another person might mean pointing to your left. There also wasn’t really a sign for the word  _ human _ , as humans had invented this version of sign language. So, to say his message, Gaster had to spell out both signs.

T-H-E  H-U-M-A-N

_ The _ human. Singular. Clearly there was a very important reason for that, otherwise Gaster wouldn’t have taken the time to spell it all out. He would’ve just spelt  _ human _ and been done with it. They were about to ask Gaster about it when he continued on.

_ Can I ask you questions? _ He signed.  _ I have no idea what’s going on... _

He moved to sign  _ outside _ , his hands open with his left hand covering over his right. He paused for a moment though, and then changed his mind. He tightened his fingers, tucking in his pickie on his right hand. He slid his right hand out from behind the left, as if he was taking his fingers out of the “cup” made by his left hand.  _ Outside _ simply became  _ out _ , as in  _ out there _ . 

Frisk understood. They also couldn’t really qualify this weird room as an  _ inside _ . They nodded, deciding to drop the whole  _ the human _ thing for now.

Gaster smiled, then lifted his hands. 

_ You know S-A-N-S and P-A-P-Y-R-U-S? _

Frisk could only assume that that was a question. Gaster’s face didn’t change as he signed it, so by all rights it was worded like it had been a statement. But how could he have known that they knew Sans and Papyrus? So Frisk answered him like it was a question, nodding cheerily. 

Gaster smiled, but he didn’t seem surprised. Maybe he somehow  _ had _ known that Frisk had known them, which kind of made Frisk feel kind of dumb for assuming. 

_ Do you know how old they are now? _ Gaster asked after a short pause, signing his words slowly, like that hadn’t  _ quite _ been the question he wanted to ask. 

Frisk didn’t know, not really. In another timeline two months from now that hadn’t happened yet, Papyrus had been getting ready to celebrate a birthday, but Frisk couldn’t remember what age he had been turning it had been so long ago. After thinking about it for a couple of minutes, they shook their head.

_ I don’t know them well enough _ . They signed back, not daring to even attempt to speak. They always stuttered really badly, worse than normal, when they tried to lie. Even though they weren’t  _ technically _ lying, they didn’t feel like it was honest enough for them to speak it. 

They had met Sans and Papyrus for the first time several times now, but no, they didn’t really  _ know _ them. The longest continuous relationship they had had with the brothers was a two month long one on the surface. They weren’t really qualified to talk about them in detail.

Gaster frowned but nodded. For someone who had questions, he didn’t seem to know where to begin. He fumbled with his hands for a moment, lost in thought. 

Well, if he wasn’t going to ask any questions than Frisk was sure going to. They crossed further into the room, smiling at him pleasantly. They gestured to his head, asking the word  _ happened _ . 

Gaster touched his skull, his frown turning into a look of disgust.  _ It’s a long story _ , He signed. Frisk decided not to push it; besides the cracks weren’t the only thing they were curious about.

_ Where are we? _ They asked, gesturing to the room.

Gaster followed their hands, looked back at them, then made a point of shrugging exaggeratedly. He didn’t know, which was kind of weird considering he’d been here first.

Frisk huffed, narrowing their eyes at him. He shrugged again and signed an  _ I don’t know _ as well, to prove that he really  _ didn’t _ know.  

_ Things like this happen to me, _ He explained,  _ It’s normal, just roll with it _ .

Frisk decided to leave it alone. After all, the door was still there, so it wasn’t like they were trapped or anything. Besides, this wouldn’t be the first time something odd had happened to them in the Underground. Frankly, they had rolled with weirder; they were friends with Sans after all.

_ Do you know G-R-I-L-L-B-Y? _ Gaster finally decided to ask. Frisk was positive he was actually asking this time, as his brow was furrowed appropriately. 

They thought about the question for a moment. They had never really paid much attention to the bartender, but Sans had taken them out to eat at his place a few times in many different timelines. Grillby was great for a joke, which you’d never guess if you had just met him, and he was pretty calm and collected. 

_ A little? _ Frisk signed.  _ I’ve met him, talked to him, but I don’t know him well. _

Gaster shrugged, putting his index finger to his thumb in an universal  _ OK  _ gesture.  _ I guessed as much _ , he continued, _ I want to know if he’s a good dad, is all _ .

“A dad?” Frisk asked aloud, shocked. They would’ve never guessed that Grillby had kids.

Although, now that they thought about it, there was a girl out in Hotland who kind of looked like Grillby, but was bright green. Was she his daughter? But why did she live out in Hotland, if he lived in Snowdin? 

Plus Combustion Guy or whatever his name is  _ also _ looked a lot like Grillby, so maybe that was more a species thing rather than an actual relation?  

So who was Grillby’s kid then?

Gaster smiled at Frisk. He nodded, signing again.

_ He adopted S-A-N-S and P-A-P _ .

Frisk felt their jaw drop, which was apparently hilarious to Gaster.

_ Sans and Papyrus _ were Grillby’s  _ kids _ ? Sure, Gaster had said that they’d been adopted, but it was baffling to think about.

Though, now that they actually  _ did _ think about it, there  _ had _ been that one time, a million resets ago, when Papyrus had casually called Grillby “dad.” Frisk hadn’t thought much about it, it had just been one of those many times when they had called him during their adventure. They liked calling Papyrus, they got a lot of random information about the area they were in. In one timeline, they waited until the last minute to befriend Undyne so all those phone calls would be just Papyrus’s input.

And when they had walked into Grillby’s, hadn’t he said something like “ _Oh, you’re in Dad’s bar! Sans’s like to hang out there!_ ”? Frisk hadn’t even noticed at the time, and then later on they had been convinced they had just heard things. 

“Whoa, I never knew.” They said aloud, meeting Gaster’s look. 

Gaster shrugged.  _ They’re adults now, right? Live on their own? _ He had designated the space to his right, Frisk’s left, for Sans and Papyrus. Frisk had a feeling the conversation wasn’t about to leave the skeleton brothers anytime soon.

Frisk nodded. “I gue-ess it makes sense that I didn’t know. I ju-u-ust...I never figured.” The small shock had seemingly woken up their stutter as well. They decided they should just stick to hand signs. 

Gaster nodded.  _ They don’t talk about stuff much _ , Gaster signed,  _ Especially S-A-N-S _ . Apparently Sans was now designated to Gaster’s right, and Papyrus was more in the middle. 

Frisk nodded knowingly. Sans never  _ did _ talk about stuff. They knew that he had some knowledge of the timelines, and of their ability to reset, but the only evidence they had on it was the odd machine in his backroom. It wasn’t like he had even  _ showed _ them the room either, they had to do some serious snooping around in order to find it and get in. 

So it really wasn’t surprising, all and all, that neither Sans or Papyrus had told Frisk that Grillby was their dad. Sure, Papyrus would probably eventually bring it up, but like Gaster had said, they were adults now. They didn’t really have a  _ need _ to mention their dad, so they hadn’t.

But that brought up another thing. Twice now, Gaster here had somehow known quite a lot more than he should. He had known that Frisk knew Sans and Papyrus, and he had known that the two were Grillby’s kids.

_ How do you know so much? _ Frisk asked.

Gaster shrugged, rolling his hands. He stiffened slightly, looking a bit frustrated. Frisk had a feeling his frustration was with himself, and that he was confused on how to respond. He furrowed his brow, as if trying to think of what to say, or just how to say it.

_ It’s hard to describe _ , He finally settled on, _ There’s a lot of science terms, nothing simple to it.  _

Frisk frowned.  _ Could you write it? _

Gaster smiled and shook his head.  _ I don’t write in the same language. _

Well that explained the weird  _ whatever _ he had said when Frisk had first walked in. They wondered why Gaster could _ sign _ in English if he couldn’t speak or write in it. They figured that was probably encompassed in the “long story” Gaster had mentioned earlier.

Gaster cleared his throat, looking a bit uneasy.  _ I have a question, but it’s awkward _ . He signed. He even spelt the word “awkward” to prove he meant it.

Frisk blinked, they nodded and gestured for him to continue. 

_ What time is it?  _ He signed. 

Frisk frowned, looking at their wrist. In the last timeline, Toriel had bought them a watch when they had made it to the surface. Of course, they didn’t have it  _ now _ , but it was a habit to check. They failed to see how that qualified as an  _ awkward _ question, feeling more than a little baffled by it. 

They shrugged, then followed with  _ sorry _ again. 

Gaster shook his head while signing the word  _ watch _ . He then again asked the question  _ what time is it? _

Well, that wasn’t quite right. To translate literally, he was signing  _ how time is it _ , but that didn’t make any sense. Frisk had just assumed that he was mistaking the word “what” and the word “how” but looking at him again made them second guess. 

Plus, generally people just signed the word “watch” with a questioning face when they wanted to say  _ what time is it _ , so maybe Frisk was mistranslating entirely here. 

“I don’t understand.” They said aloud. Maybe if the two had been talking to each other for a longer period of time they’d get the little quirks and subtleties of Gaster’s signs, but being complete strangers meant they had no idea what he was trying to  _ actually _ say. 

Gaster huffed, looking annoyed. He lifted his hands and began to spell.

_ R-E-S-E-T-S,  _ He signed.  _ How many R-E-S-E-T-S? _

Frisk froze, shocked. They suddenly understood. He hadn’t been trying to say  _ what time is it _ he had been trying to say  _ how many times _ .

“Y-y-yo-u-u” Frisk swallowed, deciding to sign instead.  _ You know about that? _

Gaster nodded, looking sympathetic.  _ I’m not judging, _ He signed quickly,  _ I’m curious _ . _ Sorry, I know it’s awkward _ . 

So  _ that’s _ what he had meant. Awkward question indeed! How did he even know?! Frisk shook their head.

_ I don’t know, _ They signed.  _ I lost count _ .

Gaster shrugged, as if he understood. He then looked at Frisk with a new kind of seriousness. _ Why? _ he asked. 

It was starting to feel a lot like he was judging them now, but Frisk figured they probably deserved it.

They were still trying to get their thoughts in order; it was such a huge shock to know that Gaster _knew_ about the resets. Sure, there had been signs that everyone else was at least _aware_ of the resets, but only in a sort of odd  déjà vu type way. Frisk hadn’t yet met someone who completely _knew_ , not once in their _long_ run of resets.

_ How do you know? _ They asked, not trusting their voice. They were also completely avoiding Gaster’s question, but they didn’t feel at all guilty for that.

Gaster huffed again.  _ It’s a long story _ , He signed. _ I don’t know how to describe it.  _

He snapped his fingers at Frisk, which was a very weird sound considering he was made entirely of bone.  _ Why? _ He asked again, appearing to be kind of annoyed that Frisk was avoiding the topic.

Frisk didn’t really want to answer that. They didn’t even really want to think about it. They didn’t have a good answer, and they knew it.

“I...” They began. They paused, then they sighed. “I’m not ready. I don’t want to co-o-on-ntinue on. I...I li-ike things like this.”

Gaster gave them a knowing look, one mixed with sympathy and understanding but also with a bit of an...edge. Something in his look told Frisk that their answer wasn’t good enough.

_ You should stop _ , He signed.  _ Let things move on _ .

“Well it’s not all bad!” Frisk insisted, their hands forgotten for now. “Only after re-resetting a ton did I find you!”

Gaster shook his head.  _ I don’t matter _ , He signed.  _ Let time continue. _

They were getting the hang of his subtleties and they found that they didn't want to. The way it clicked in their head when he signed  _ watch  _ and  _ move on _ to make the sentence  _ let time continue _ wasn’t a skill they wanted to have. They shouldn’t be talking to him, but since he  _ knew _ about the resets they couldn’t simply reset their way out of this awkward conversation. They hadn’t realized how often they’d done that until it was suddenly not an option anymore.

Plus, his words were starting to bother Frisk. After all that time trying to help people, they couldn’t stand to hear him say that he didn’t matter. What were to happen if they did allow time to continue? Would he still be stuck here? Would Frisk ever find their way back here? Would anyone?

“You should matter!” Frisk said, determined all of a sudden. They didn’t know this boy, not really. They just knew that he talked in a weird way and didn’t know how he had gotten in this gray room and that wasn’t even the weirdest thing about him apparently. And yeah, maybe they couldn’t save everyone. Maybe they weren’t powerful enough. But damn, they always wanted to  _ try _ .

“I-I...” They began. “I reset at first so I c-c-ould help Asriel.”

Gaster nodded, knowingly. 

“I ca-can’t.” They continued. “I don’t....I don’t really kno-oo why I’m still...” 

Frisk took a breath, reigning in their emotions. “I just want to he-elp people. You too, Gaster.” 

Gaster looked a bit shocked by this, but then he smiled. He fidgeted, then finally picked up his hands and signed again.  _ You can’t help me. _ He began.  _ I don't exist anymore, not in the timelines _ .

He had to spell most of it, but Frisk got the meaning behind his words.

The words from the gray child came back to Frisk.  _ Have you ever thought about a world where everything is the same, except you don’t exist? _ They began to wonder about the meaning behind the gray kid’s words. 

_ I live in the Void _ , Gaster spelt out the word Void, to show that it was a proper noun.  _ It’s between the timelines _ . More spelling, luckily Frisk was very patient.  _ I don’t exist so I can’t be helped. _

Frisk shook their head. They couldn’t understand what he was talking about. He was standing here, talking to them, and saying he didn’t exist, when clearly he did. 

“What do you me-ean by ‘don’t exist’?” Frisk asked, voicing their confusion. “You’re here!”

Gaster smiled like Frisk was being impatient -- which, granted, they were -- and continued signing.  _ I’m in pieces _ , He signed,  _ All across time and space. I’m everywhere and nowhere. Which sounds a lot cooler than it actually is _ .

Frisk shook their head. “I don’t...”

Gaster clicked his fingers, interrupting Frisk.  _ I don’t exist P-R-O-P-E-R-L-Y _ , he signed.  _ In some way, I’m still alive. I’m still H-E-R-E, but I have no method of surviving in a proper timeline. I’d probably turn right to dust if I tried. _

Gaster paused for a moment, frowning slightly. He seemed saddened suddenly, as if talking about his situation had reminded him how dismal it was.

_ Please let time continue, _ He signed.  _ I don’t like seeing them stuck in a timeloop. _

“Them” meaning Sans and Papyrus, of course. 

Frisk found, suddenly and forcefully, that they didn’t know how what to do. They took a deep breath, then took another one, and then began to think.

They didn’t understand, not really. They didn’t understand how Gaster didn’t exist “properly” or how he could be in pieces across time and space. They didn’t understand and they knew he couldn’t explain properly in just sign language alone. And, frankly, they didn’t think they’d ever be  _ able _ to fully understand.

What they did understand was Gaster claiming that him leaving the void would mean his death. If he couldn’t leave the void, and if he couldn’t properly enter the timeline, then Frisk really did have no hope of saving him. Not in their usual manner, anyways. 

It was a bit like Asriel all over again. They had only just met Gaster, and now it felt like they were going to have to watch him fade away. They wanted to save him, they wanted to save everyone, but just like with Asriel he was just straight up telling them that he couldn’t be saved. 

They tried to look on the bright side of it. Like Asriel, Gaster wasn’t going to  _ die _ if they didn’t save him. Asriel turned back into Flowey, Gaster remained stuck here. This gray, lifeless room. The void, as he called it. 

“Do you think...” Frisk began. “Do you think I could vi-ist?” 

Gaster blinked. He opened his mouth, took a breath, closed his mouth, then furrowed his brow and looked  _ really _ confused. Finally he shrugged, shaking his head sadly. He didn’t know.

_ I don’t understand how you’re here right now, _ He admitted.  _ Maybe? I don’t know how this all works, not really. _

Frisk nodded. “I’m going to try, OK? Evv-ey month I’ll be back here. I st-ill want to save you.” 

Gaster smiled softly.  _ You’re going to stop? No more resets? _ He still spelt the word resets. Though, to be fair, Frisk wasn’t certain the word “reset” even existed in sign language. Maybe something similar, like “rewind” or “redo” but probably nothing specifically for “reset.” And  _ definitely  _ nothing existed for the type of reset Gaster was talking about. Honestly, the more they thought about, the more sense it made for reset to be spelt rather than attempting to make a sign for it.

“I...” Frisk stopped, taking a breath. “No more. I’ll...I’ll le-et time continue.”

Gaster’s face morphed to something as close to raising an eyebrow as he could manage.  _ Promise? _ He asked, spelling it out for emphasis.

Frisk nodded, speaking aloud to prove they meant it. “I promise.” 

Gaster smiled.  _ I look forward to see you then.  _ He signed.  _ You should go have your happy ending now _ .

Frisk walked over to him, opening their arms for a hug. Gaster reached over as well, but the second he touched them everything went wrong. He suddenly... _ glitched _ , his form distorting as if he was a half-loaded image on a computer. He said something then, probably a swear, his voice sounding much rougher than before. He sort of... _ expanded _ and faded, till suddenly he was gone.

Frisk was alone in the gray room, shocked. They wanted to call out, to make sure he was OK, but they could just... _ tell _ that he wasn’t there anymore.

They forced themself to keep their spirits up. They didn’t think he was hurt or anything, they figured that whatever had tied him to this room had finally snapped. They’d remember this for next time; Gaster couldn’t be touched. 

They walked the length of the gray room, making sure to take in as many details of the place as possible. Finally they got bored and left, only a tiny bit surprised when they turned to find the door wasn’t there anymore. 

It’d come back. It  _ had _ to. They didn’t like breaking promises, but they were willing to if it meant seeing Gaster again.

Gaster was completely  _ alive _ . He clearly had a soul, he sort of even had a physical form. There  _ had _ to be a way to save him. And Frisk was going to find it. 


End file.
